


The Right to Rule

by Cogito3



Series: Avatar Azula Saga [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Azula is the Avatar, Drama, Gen, Lots more characters will appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-03-16 14:29:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 96,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13638168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cogito3/pseuds/Cogito3
Summary: Azula once wanted to rule the world. As the Avatar, she's now obligated to save it. But what difference does that make in the end? (AU; sequel to "Prisoner")





	1. Prologue: The Day of Black Sun

**Note:** This is the sequel to my previous fanfic, _Prisoner_. As such, I highly recommend reading _Prisoner_ before _The Right to Rule._ That said, I am kind of curious what it would be like to read this one first, so if you do so please let me know!

Special thanks to my former beta Lavanya Six, and my current betas Devon and Aurelia Le!

* * *

What’s it like being the Avatar? An interesting question. Let’s think about it. What is it, precisely, that differentiates an Avatar from everyone else?

Bending is the most obvious difference, I suppose. Avatars can bend all four elements at a higher level than just about anyone else. During the War, all those decades ago, this was the only aspect of being the Avatar that I actually enjoyed.

Then there’s what my predecessors call the Avatar State. Avatars have the ability to channel the knowledge and power of all their previous selves. The more the years go by, the more I’ve found the former to be more valuable than the latter.

For those who focus more on my role as bridge to the Spirit World than my duty to maintain balance, Avatars naturally have more spiritual sensitivity than the vast majority. Most need to undergo intense spiritual training for years before they can enter the Spirit World; for me it’s as easy as falling into a well. Though if I’m being honest, I wish it was harder because then I’d have an excuse _not_ to go. Oh well.

In my experience, however, all of this—while important—is ultimately secondary. The most notable thing about being the Avatar is that everyone _respects_ you. People can love me or hate me, but they cannot ignore me. Not because I’m so powerful, mind you. I am still human and I’ve almost died more times than I care to remember. They have to listen to me because they know that everyone else, even monarchs, will listen to me.

Even the Fire Nation, after a century of propaganda designed to make them hate the Avatar, accepted their defeat largely because it was at the hands of that Avatar.

I have no army, I have no government, but I’m kind of ruler of the world.

That’s weird, right?

* * *

**The Right to Rule**

An _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ fanfic

* * *

**Prologue**

**The Day of Black Sun**

* * *

Both Azula and Sokka wanted to give the speech. Azula won the argument, of course.

Being the Avatar had _some_ benefits.

Azula stepped onto the platform, feeling the cool rock under her feet. She directed the senses she had left to survey the men and women lined up before her.

Ambient conversation floated across her ears.

Scents from the world over wafted into her nose.

Vibrations in the earth flowed through the rock to her feet and filled her entire body.

And the air displaced by all their movements brushed against her skin.

Azula clenched her fist, trying to quiet a rare trepidation that was currently gripping her stomach.

_I will win._

She walked to the center of the dais, turned to face the crowd, and waited. Idle talk and movement soon ceased as they regarded the fourteen-year-old blind Avatar standing before them.

“As you are hopefully aware,” she began, “we will be attacking the Fire Nation capital today. What you ideally _don’t_ know is why we’re doing it today. The reason is that a most fortuitous event will soon occur.” She paused for dramatic effect. “A total solar eclipse. The sun will disappear and firebenders will lose the ability to bend.”

A flurry of conversation followed this remark. Azula was content to let it subside naturally—they had plenty of time—until she heard a statement directed at her.

“The Boulder would like to know,” began a frighteningly familiar voice, “why we were not informed of this before today.”

Azula’s lips twisted into a smile. “If I told every Li, Shou, and Jun about it, it’d reach the Firelord’s ears within a day. Keeping it secret ensures we retain the element of surprise.” Her eyeless gaze wandered about the crowd. “Is anyone else dissatisfied by this?”

There was a cough, but nothing more.

Azula nodded. “Good. Now, the eclipse itself will only last for eight minutes, so most of the invasion is still going to take place under the sun.” As always, Azula’s nervousness steadily drained out of her as she spoke, as she became the image she presented to the world. “We will be using a new piece of technology to travel under the water and land directly at the Royal Plaza. The goal is to capture the tower and arrive at the capital right before the actual eclipse; most of the firebenders will be guarding the palace, so it’s at the final leg where we’ll need the eclipse the most. For further details, consult your Unit Commanders.

“Furthermore, General Chen has informed me,” she gestured at the Council of Five member, “that the Fire Nation’s army is stretched extremely thin responding to the simultaneous attacks of the main Earth Kingdom and Water Tribe armies, not to mention the revolts of Fire Nation soldiers loyal to me. As such, there are few enemy forces left here. Have confidence that victory is well within reach.

“Unfortunately, I will be unable to join you. During the majority of the battle, I will be tunneling underground with the help of this.” She gave a signal to the mechanist, who was standing next to something large covered by a cloth. He pulled off the cloth to reveal the device underneath: a miniature version of the drill that she had stopped from breaking into Ba Sing Se. “This is so I can cut off any officials who try to escape underground, including the Firelord. Therefore, the success of this operation rests entirely on the strength, will, and honor of all of you.”

Azula’s eye sockets surveyed the gathered soldiers one more time. “This war has gone on for one hundred years. Let’s end it right here, right now.”

Her smile at the cheer-slash-battle cry that followed was more genuine.

* * *

Toph had to admit that Sokka’s submarines were useful. That didn’t save him from taking a _very_ large number of mental insults as she threw up into a helmet for the fifth time in as many minutes.

Next to her, she heard Azula laughing. “So the Greatest Earthbender In The World’s sole weakness is water, I see. Let’s hope it doesn’t rain.”

Toph would have punched her if she could’ve _seen_ anything in this stupid metal box. Instead she was forced to settle for saying, “Shut up, Hot Lips.”

“An inspired comeback.”

Toph muttered under her breath, then cringed as she felt more bile coming up. She reached for the helmet again.

* * *

The submarines had risen temporarily to fill back up on air before submerging again. Azula and the blind girl who taught her earthbending (Zuko had learned not to ask questions) left in a boat to do their tunneling thing; Azula didn’t say a word to him before leaving, unsurprisingly. Zuko himself took advantage of the opportunity to lie down on top of the submarine, gaze up at the sky, and try not to think of anything.

“Hey.”

Zuko sat up and turned to see Sokka standing behind him.

“You doing okay?” Sokka asked hesitantly.

Zuko looked down and sighed. “About as well as can be expected, I guess.”

Sokka sat next to him. They both looked at the sky in silence for a bit, and then Sokka said, “You don’t have to fight in this battle, you know, if you don’t want to.”

Zuko turned his head slowly. Sokka was still gazing upward, his expression unreadable. “I’ve already decided,” Zuko said slowly, looking back up at the sky. “Father’s war is evil. My journeys with Uncle only confirmed that to me. I’m going to do whatever I can to stop him. Besides…” he looked down again. “Azula’s the one who actually has to fight him, not me.”

More silence, until Sokka broke it with, “Think she’ll be able to do it?” There was more than a touch of worry in his voice.

Zuko closed his eyes, thinking of his sister. “Most likely,” he said, even more slowly, “fighting Father is the only reason she’s here.”

* * *

Azula succeeded at steering the small boat to shore. While she was still not great at seeing things with airbending, the trip was short enough it wasn’t a problem—she only had to bring it a small distance in a straight line. Azula and Toph unloaded the miniature drill, then Azula punctured holes in the boat with waterbending and sunk it, to make sure no one would know they were here.

As the two walked to where they would begin drilling, though, Azula’s stomach started clenching again. Probably it was the stupid submarine that brought her nerves back. As much as she made fun of Toph, traveling underwater wasn’t exactly sunshine and roses for her either.

No, that wasn’t it. Blaming the submarine was an excuse. She was clenching her fist so tightly her nails drew blood because she was thinking about Father.

“ _This is the scroll I studied when I first learned firebending. Happy birthday, my dear daughter.”_

“ _You are the best daughter anyone could hope for._ _One day all of this will be yours, Azula.”_

“ _At this rate, you’ll even surpass me one day. You could very well become the savior of the Fire Nation.”_

“ _I love you.”_

_He stopped right in front of her…and smiled._

_Then her father’s fist met her face_

_It hurts_

_Can’t move arms_

_Can’t move legs_

“ _You see, while t_ _he Firelord wants to keep you alive, he did say I could have a souvenir.”_

_His fire-cloaked hand reached toward her face and_

_IT HURTS_

“You okay, Azula?”

Azula started. That voice was Toph’s, and she had laced it with an extremely un-Tophlike amount of concern. She hadn’t even used her stupid nickname.

“I still have to recover from the submarine, too,” Azula lied. Her lies to Toph were usually successful—even if nobody else’s were—but that one was probably too easy to read. Whatever the case, Toph didn’t pursue the matter, and they started walking again.

 _She’s probably already guessed_ , Azula thought. Toph was a lot like her in a lot of ways, which produced both advantages and disadvantages. Her annoying level of insight into Azula’s emotional life was definitely in the ‘disadvantage’ category.

Unfortunately, when she stopped thinking about Toph, her brain returned to Ozai. She tried several methods to stop it until she finally ran across one that worked: repeating the same sentence to herself, over and over, without pause.

_I will win._

* * *

_Ten minutes until landing._ Sokka wiped sweat off his forehead for what seemed like the thousandth time.

Now that Azula and Toph were gone, the leadership of the strike operation had been given to General Chen from the Earth Kingdom’s Council of Five. However, the forces were divided into a number of squads depending on where the soldiers came from. With Father leading the much larger distraction force, Sokka had been chosen as Unit Commander of his tribe’s squadron.

Which meant that any deaths would be his fault.

 _Nine minutes until landing._ Sokka’s teeth started chattering, and no matter what he did he couldn’t—

Someone touched his shoulder. “Aaah!” Sokka shouted, drawing his sword—

“Sokka, it’s just me,” Katara said, both hands in the air.

Sokka re-sheathed his sword, which took a lot longer than usual due to his sweaty palms and shaking hands, and mumbled some sort of an apology.

“Come on, Sokka. You’re killing yourself like this.”

Sokka sighed. “I know.” _Eight and a half minutes until landing._ “But I can’t help it. This is the first time I’ve had to lead an army since—since ever!” He noticed he was flailing his arms and forced them to his sides. “I don’t…” He sat down and put his head in his hands. “I don’t think I’m ready.”

A few seconds passed by. _Eight minutes until landing_. Then Katara put her hands on his shoulders.

“It’s not unreasonable to be nervous,” she said. “But you’re not alone. I’m here. So are Bato and Kalu. It’s not all on your shoulders.”

Sokka chuckled. “You always get straight to the heart of the matter.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Because I’m nervous about the same thing.”

That made Sokka look at her. His sister was hugging herself, her head hung. She was even trembling slightly.

“I’ve been trained by both Hama and Pakku. I’m the best waterbender here. With Azula and Toph gone, I might be the best bender here period. Pakku even told me I could become the most powerful non-Avatar waterbender in centuries. You think I don’t realize how much the success of this operation depends on me?”

Sokka didn’t know what to say.

“So…” She finally looked at him, and made a small smile. “If I support you, would you support me?”

Sokka had never seen his sister like this, and he knew he might not see her like this again. He had no idea what the proper response was.

So he stood up and hugged her.

And that made his heart a little lighter.

_Seven minutes until landing._

Only just a little, though.

* * *

When Katara left Sokka, two things were on her mind. The first was the necklace Mother had given her before she left for the North. She touched the carving etched into the stone and smiled.

The second was the burn scar on her stomach. The internals had healed completely, Kalu said, but the scar would last forever.

Well. Katara wasn’t doing this for _her_.

“We’re surfacing!” someone shouted. Katara took battle position and closed her eyes, feeling her heart thumping rapidly against her chest.

When she first started learning waterbending, Katara realized that she saw, or _understood_ , water in a way everyone else didn’t. She knew where it wanted to go and didn’t try to fight it. All she had to do was nudge it in the right direction.

The submarine surfaced and Katara was the first one out of it. Each submarine had an elite waterbender stationed in it, and together they were the vanguard. They needed to clear the way for everyone else to land on the beach safely. Their first obstacle was the metal wall that blocked the entrance to the tower.

As Katara moved her attention to the water surrounding her on all sides, her fear, worry, and stress evaporated. She raised her hands and a thin, large ring of water rose with them.

The immediate problem was the towers that were presently firing hooks attached to chains at the submarines. Katara twisted her body, flinching a bit as her burn scar stung, and molded the water ring into a long serpent, forming a huge water whip that she could make hard as a battering ram or sharp as a tiger-shark’s tooth, depending on the circumstances. She went for sharp, then swept her arm, sending it out to cut the nearest chain. She did it again, then brought it back to swat away a hook that was launched at her.

She was sweating like crazy, and half her effort was devoted to stopping her heart from beating out of control. She had never made a water whip of this size before, and it took an intense amount of concentration and fine-tuned control. Luckily, she didn’t have to do it for too long. After a few more intense seconds they got close to the gates, and she re-entered the submarine before it submerged again.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have an opportunity to catch her breath. She rushed to the front of the sub to help with the torpedoes, which destroyed the underwater wall and allowed them to finally make it through to the shore.

There was still one more job to do as the vanguard, though. She exited the submarine again and raised her arms, bringing up a giant mass of water with them. No fancy shape this time. She looked at the shore, and saw the Fire Nation soldiers who had gathered to contest their landing. They looked terrified.

Katara thought of her scar again. She would never enjoy this.

She brought the ocean down, crushing them from above.

* * *

Movement to the left. Zuko swept one broadsword, sending a wave of flame toward it.

Fire to the right. Zuko slashed through it with the other broadsword.

No matter how many times he trained with Uncle, it never prepared Zuko for the chaos and calamity of real battle, much less war. He didn’t have time to think, he had to rely on instinct.

At least it meant he couldn’t think about the fates of the people he hurt, or killed.

A combined force of tanks and soldiers started coming toward them. The tanks were best left to the earth- and waterbenders. Zuko was Unit Commander of the Fire Nation deserter brigade, and he ordered them to focus on incapacitating the soldiers. His unit was joined by the weird group of Earth Kingdom girls with makeup and fans, and the resulting battle was short.

This was easier than it had any right to be. Most of the soldiers who’d ordinarily be stationed here had been sent to combat the diversionary invasion, and most of the ones left were presently retreating to the palace. Azula and the others had left plenty of time for them to reach the palace before the eclipse, but right now it looked like they’d make it there with time to spare.

Unfortunately, the ease of the battle meant Zuko had more time to think about what he would have to do at the palace, and all the things he’d have to do as Firelord afterward.

A group of soldiers ignored more obvious targets and charged at him, their few firebenders sending fireballs at him. Zuko bent the fire away, ordered his forces to intercept, and prepared a counter—

When a wave of water rushed at him and knocked him on his face, almost breaking his nose. He barely had time to be offended when he felt a huge impact next to his head.

Looking in that direction, he saw a ballista bolt that was a few _bu_ away from blasting his head into pieces.

“We need to take out those battlements,” he heard, and looked up to see Katara, his apparent savior, hair sprawled in all directions and a look of intense concentration on her face.

Zuko nodded. “They’re probably the biggest obstacle right now.” He looked at one row of the giant metal structures and got a sudden idea. “Think you and the other waterbenders can move the ocean up and crush them with it?”

Katara considered one briefly. “Maybe the closest ones.”

Zuko nodded. “Go do that. I’ll take care of the other two.”

While Katara ran off to gather the other waterbenders, Zuko ordered his forces to continue engaging the enemy on the plaza and approached some earthbenders, managing to pull a few off to bend some handholds and footholds in the cliff face for him. He climbed up and waited, watching the ocean.

Before long two waves, narrow in width but tsunami-like in height, rose up and crashed against the battlements nearest the ocean, destroying them.

The remaining battlement operators, distracted by their comrades’ demise, didn’t notice as he leapt down on top of the battlement, leaned over, and blasted fire into the opening. He entered the structure and easily took out the soldiers who were still standing.

After that, Zuko looked at their equipment. He hadn’t used it before, but it didn’t look too complicated. He aimed it at the last battlement on the other size of the plaza, lit the bolt’s tip on fire for good measure, then fired.

His aim wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t need to be. It hit the battlement right below the ballista, destroying its supports and causing the ballista to topple out and fall onto the battlefield, inoperable.

When Zuko returned to the plaza, the Unit Commanders had all gathered. He rushed up to join them.

“It appears we’ve got this area under control,” General Chen told him when he arrived. “All units are to make their way to the palace. We’re ahead of schedule, so we can afford to put safety above speed.”

Zuko nodded, called his unit together, and relayed the orders.

And tried his best to quiet that nagging voice at the back of his head that said: _One step closer to Father._

* * *

Even with the miniature drill, tunneling through the earth was slow, difficult, boring work. Azula and Toph had to make sure to keep the rock above their heads steady so it wouldn’t collapse on them. Even with both of them working together, this took utmost concentration for prolonged periods of time, as well as a constant use of bending that proved mentally and physically exhausting.

According to Toph, it was the primary means of movement by the badgermoles that had taught her earthbending. For the life of her, Azula could never tell just how much the other girl was joking.

They tunneled together in silence for hours. As the time wore on, Azula regretted this part of the plan more and more, even as she knew it was both the safest and most dramatic way to get to a duel with Ozai. She gripped onto that one sentence tighter and tighter:

_I will win._

* * *

The thrill of victory at the plaza had already subsided. Now Sokka kept a running record of the time until the eclipse in his head up to the second. Despite that, he still checked the sundial on his wrist once every ten seconds, just to make sure.

Azula, the Dragon of the West, Gran-Gran, and General How had planned on two hours between taking the plaza and the beginning of the eclipse. Thanks to the speed of their victory, they had almost four. This mostly just gave Sokka even more time to worry about how they would conquer the Fire Nation Royal Palace—perhaps the most impregnable installation in the world—in eight minutes.

Not to mention the _special_ instruction Azula had given him, Zuko, and Katara on what to do with the Firelord. He couldn’t help glancing at General Chen from time to time, wondering how the Earth Kingdom warhorse was going to react.

But as he and his troops took up their positions along the palace’s borders, and time slowly waned, Sokka’s emotions were different from what they had been on the submarine. Maybe it was because of their earlier success. Maybe it was knowing that, after one hundred years of suffering, the Fire Nation’s defeat was only eight minutes away. Or maybe his nerves had just burned themselves out. For whatever reason, as the time of the eclipse approached, Sokka could feel his heart growing stronger, and the raging tempest inside his body calmed down and slowly turned to ice.

“One minute until we attack, everyone,” he muttered.

He looked at the moon meandering toward the sun, and thought of Yue. She was waiting for him back at the North Pole. No way was he going to let himself die before they could get married. With that determination in mind, he whispered a countdown.

Three…

Two…

One.

In the middle of the day, darkness blanketed the world.

“Go!”

* * *

A while after Toph took over tunneling duties to let Azula relax before her big fight, she saw Azula flinch.

“What?” Toph asked.

“Firebending’s gone,” Azula grunted. “We won’t make it at this rate.”

Toph swore under her breath. She couldn’t even wipe the sweat from her brow since she had to keep gripping the dumb drill. “Rested up enough to help out again? We’re almost there.”

Azula’s answer was to stand up and started bending again. Together they managed to finally break through to a giant underground tunnel.

“Think you can find your way by yourself?” Toph asked semi-sarcastically.

Azula huffed. “Just who do you think I am? What about you—can you find the cowards who’re trying to retreat underground?”

Toph grinned. “I caught sight them just as you were talking, Hot Lips.”

Azula made an irritated noise. She was probably upset her seismic sense was still inferior to the Toph’s, which made Toph’s grin wider. “Then I’ll see you at war’s end,” Azula said.

They started running in opposite directions, toward their respective targets, when Toph felt the need to yell, “Don’t die!”

Azula didn’t respond. Well, that was fine. Her mission was far more difficult, after all. Toph didn’t need any moral support to take out retreating bureaucrats.

 _I do hope you know what you’re doing, Hot Lips_ , Toph thought, before focusing her mind on the targets.

* * *

As soon as the eclipse happened, Zuko could _feel_ it. While the ember in the center of his soul had been waxing and waning since his birth, flaring up with the sun in the sky, weakening with his doubt and self-hatred, he had never truly paid attention to it until it was completely extinguished.

“Now!”

Zuko and the other soldiers had been camping out as close as they could to the palace without being vulnerable to counterattack. The idea was to feign a siege, counting on Father choosing to wait for reinforcements to arrive. Azula and the others had guessed that the majority of the troops stationed at the borders would be firebenders, and the guess was correct. They were overrun quickly.

Zuko and his Fire Nation defectors were the weakest of the forces during the eclipse, but as it turned out, that didn’t really matter. Most of the remaining enemy soldiers seemed incredibly demoralized. Zuko knew the loss of morale started years ago with Azula’s defection and the stall in the war efforts, and it was probably heavily exacerbated by the invasion and rebellion, and now by their overwhelming victory at the plaza. The eclipse, more likely than not, only pushed them over the edge. Most of the soldiers his group came across surrendered without a fight.

As they rushed through the city, Zuko dispatched predetermined soldiers to split up and take side roads, ordering them to incapacitate or force the surrender of any enemy they came across. As planned he arrived at the palace alone, and saw that Sokka, Katara, and General Chen were already inside.

“Four minutes left, Zuko,” Sokka said as soon as Zuko ran up to him.

Zuko answered with a tight nod, and they all ran inside.

His job now, of course, was to lead them to Father. While they ran into some guards along the way, without firebending they were no match.

The others had worried that the Firelord might run off somewhere when he saw how bad the battle was going. Zuko, Uncle, and Azula had all known otherwise. Whatever Firelord Ozai’s faults were, cowardice was not one of them. Father was going to go down with his empire.

As expected, Zuko and the others found him sitting on his throne, still carrying an air of serene confidence. When Zuko saw him, he gasped and stopped moving. It had been more than two years.

Then Father looked at him.

Zuko had expected hatred, loathing, or contempt. Or maybe an arrogant sneer, or (in his wildest dreams) profound sadness. Instead, all he saw was disappointment.

Immense, crushing disappointment. It felt like someone had kicked him in the chest. Zuko barely avoided falling to his knees.

“Stand up!” Sokka shouted, brandishing his sword at Father.

Father finally looked away from Zuko. The expression he favored Sokka with was filled with the expected contempt.

“Or what? You’ll kill me?”

“As much as I would like to,” Sokka growled, “that’s not my duty.” He and General Chen ran to the throne, and together managed to haul Father off of it. Sokka put his sword to Father’s back, General Chen to his neck, and Katara covered his upper body with all the water in her pouches.

Zuko, to his eternal shame, only stood there. But he did join them as they marched Father out of the room, and he added his sword to the others.

Nobody said a word as they led Firelord Ozai outside, adding chains to Katara’s water in preparation for the end of the eclipse. During their walk, Zuko’s inner flame reappeared as quickly as it had been extinguished, and he didn’t think of anything as they stepped under the sun again.

A huge crowd of spectators was waiting for them in the main courtyard, allied soldiers, disarmed enemy soldiers, and regular citizens alike, all there to witness the end of the Hundred Year War.

And right in the center stood Azula.

* * *

Azula smiled and raised her finger. Through the earth and wind she saw Katara, Sokka, and Zuko follow the secret orders she gave them. Namely, Katara restrained General Chen and the latter two forced Ozai to approach her, then retreated back to the sidelines.

She and Ozai stood on the courtyard alone. The same courtyard of her Master exam fight all those years ago. _Fitting that the same place where this all began will be where it all ends_ , she thought.

Azula just waited. She knew Ozai would eventually feel the need to say something.

And so he did. “Congratulations, my daughter,” he said, in a tone that reeked of arrogance. “You have successfully destroyed the Fire Nation.”

Every hair on Azula’s body stood on end when she heard Ozai’s voice. She recovered as best she could and gave him a mock bow, saying, “I appreciate your praise deeply, Lord Father, but I am afraid it is unwarranted. The Fire Nation will prosper like never before.”

“Nobody will follow you or your treasonous brother,” Ozai responded, his voice betraying no hint of defeat or despair. “Even with the armies of the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes, you only won this battle through treachery and deceit.”

Azula was finally able to smile again after that line. She was waiting for him to say something like that. _I will win_ _._ “Are you suggesting our victory today was less than honorable, Lord Father?” She waited just the right amount of time, then continued, “Because if so, I have a suggestion.”

“Yes?”

“An Agni Kai between you and me, for the fate of the country.”

All the other leaders knew Azula was planning to duel Ozai; the Agni Kai, part, though, she had kept to herself. Not even Toph knew. A loud murmur arose as everyone present reacted to her declaration. However, even if they wanted to, nobody would dare interfere with her in this situation. For now, at least, the stage was all hers.

“I believe you were taught this,” Ozai said, “but only firebenders can engage in the holy ritual of Agni Kai. You are not a firebender.”

Azula made sure her tone was nothing but humble. “Respectfully, Father, an Agni Kai is a holy ritual of fire _bending_. As long as I only use firebending, it should be perfectly permissible for me to participate in one.” She faced him straight on and gave her sweetest smile. “Am I wrong?”

This brought the ambient conversation to a fever pitch. It died down after a minute, and Azula waited for Ozai to respond. Eventually he did, and he responded as she knew he would. After all, she mused darkly, she was all but handing him her head on a platter.

“I cannot fight as I am now.”

 _Don’t pretend you can’t free yourself at any moment_ , Azula thought, but it didn’t matter. “Katara!” she called. Azula felt the impact of the cut chains against the ground a few seconds later.

“I assume your soldiers know not to interfere in an Agni Kai?” Ozai asked, voice thick with sarcasm.

“They do now,” Azula said.

“Very well. Then I accept your challenge.”

Ozai shouted some orders and some servants started rushing about, gathering the formal Agni Kai attire and appointing judges. For her part, Azula ordered her soldiers to not take one step onto the courtyard. She would have plenty of time later to justify her actions to them. After all, Ozai wasn’t wrong—they _did_ need to persuade the country to follow Zuko postwar—and an Agni Kai, holy ceremony that it was, was the quickest and most efficient way to cut discontent off at its stem. Not to mention prove to the world that the Avatar was just as powerful as ever, after one hundred years of defeat.

They’d keep any suspicions of ulterior motives to themselves, if they knew what was good for them.

It felt like forever, but it probably only took around fifteen minutes for the servants to gather the formal attire and conduct the proper rituals. Azula and Ozai took their respective positions.

Her breath was quicker and more ragged than it had ever been before. The goal she’d been working toward for the last three years was finally in sight.

The gong sounded, signaling the start of the Agni Kai.

Immediately Azula felt a wave of fire screaming at her. She breathed in, breathed out, and parted it easily, gathered up the remains with both hands, broke it apart, and sent at least twenty fireballs right back at him. Tremors in the ground told her that he dodged to the right, which Azula matched, avoiding his counterattack. To stop him from gaining momentum she launched her own barrage of flames, then ran away, anticipating Ozai’s advance.

For her plan to work, Azula would have to keep her distance.

The fight continued in much the same way. They were sizing each other up, testing the other’s strength and agility and getting a sense for their tactics. A battle between two high-class benders was almost always decided by one attack—the rest was just preparation for that attack.

For Azula’s part, the exchanges proved what she had already suspected: Ozai was better than her. He had far more experience and was in the prime of his life, while Azula’s body was still maturing. Little by little, Azula could feel the pace slipping away from her, could sense her assaults turning into reactions and then into desperate countermeasures. Little by little fear started to leak out of her heart, and it threatened to overwhelm her.

Suddenly she stopped seeing Ozai through the ground, and the air currents said he was flying toward her. She knew this technique: he was propelling himself forward by blasting a huge amount of flame behind him. His hands were surely already forming a deadly kata.

Azula was no match for him in close-range combat. Her only option was to launch herself into the air as well, up and away from him.

And then she felt it.

A crackle in the air that could only signal one thing.

Azula had very few options in the air; she was very much set on her course, so her future location would be child’s play to predict. Away from the ground, she couldn’t even use her seismic sense to try and dodge the bolt of lightning.

Luckily, she was the Avatar.

As soon as the lightning erupted out of Ozai’s fingers she turned her airbending senses to maximum, and the displacement of wind told her exactly where the bolt was. Time slowed to a crawl and she turned her body over to muscle memory, moved her arm, and caught the lightning with her hand.

The pure, unbridled _chi_ energy of the lightning was like lava. With time as slow as it was, she could feel each impact as the lightning barreled its way through her arm, crashing against and destroying all in its way as it broke into her shoulder.

Then, just as Iroh had taught her, she _bent_ it, sending the searing _chi_ down into her stomach, then up to her other shoulder. Kneading it like clay, she prodded it up into her left arm, through her wrist, and into her fingertips.

She let herself savor the exhilaration of commanding such power before releasing all of that _chi_ directly back where it came from.

Her only regret was not being able to see Ozai’s expression.

_I won._

Azula descended slowly, feeling something akin to elation. When her feet touched the ground, she sensed Ozai’s body jerking around and could hear him groaning. He was still alive, but likely only barely.

Well, no matter. She actually somewhat preferred getting in a few last words.

She sauntered up to him, thinking of and disposing of thousands of lines to say. She opened her mouth.

“Congratulations,” Ozai said in a wheezing, rasping voice. “You got your revenge.”

Azula’s mouth stayed open, but she didn’t say anything.

“I do hope,” he went on, “you won’t let the foreigners rape our lands and people.”

All she could think to say was, “Indeed.”

Firelord Ozai died there, in the same place where he had condemned her to a life of permanent darkness, and Azula had never felt more like a little girl.

* * *

There was, however, one final step in this war. One last task Azula and Zuko had to fulfill.

By themselves, they broke into the Firelady’s chamber.

Iroh had told Azula about Ozai’s new wife shortly after she first learned airbending. Apparently he didn’t want to give her bad news while she was slowly killing herself over her failure, which admittedly made some sense. Regardless, Ozai married a 19-year-old noble woman shortly after he sent Zuko away, and a few months later she had become pregnant.

It somehow seemed appropriate that the final act of a hundred-year-long war would involve a terrified young Firelady, a despondent soon-to-be-Firelord, and a screaming toddler.

“Firelady Kachi,” Azula said. “I’m delighted to finally meet you.”

Kachi didn’t respond. Zuko seemed to be almost as terrified as the Firelady and also remained silent. Neither of those things were particularly surprising.

“Now that we’re finished with pleasantries,” Azula continued, “let’s move on to the main topic. Your husband is dead and soon Zuko here will be Firelord. Before then, we have to decide what to do with you and your daughter there.”

“I...” Kachi started, then paused. Azula was willing to wait. “I didn’t want to do this. My parents forced me into it. I hated every moment of it. Please,” her voice started breaking, “please, you have to believe me!”

“We believe you,” Zuko broke in. “Don’t worry, we mean you no harm.”

Azula was a bit annoyed; this would go easier the more terrified Kachi was. Oh well. “Indeed. We know you’re a victim too, and we won’t punish you. You can go back to your family, or somewhere else if you’d prefer. Wherever you’d like”

Kachi seemed to calm down a little, but her voice was still soft when she spoke again. “And my daughter? What will you do to Azaka?” The Azaka in question somehow managed to start screeching even louder.

“She’ll also—” Zuko began, but Azula cut him off.

“Your daughter presents a more difficult problem,” Azula said. “You see, there will be some who disagree with the policies Zuko has in mind. They may very well use your daughter as a rallying point, planning to kill Zuko and install her on the throne instead. Needless to say, this would be bad for both her and Zuko, not to mention the world. Therefore—”

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and Zuko whispered into her ear, “Why didn’t you talk to me about this?”

“I felt it was best for you not to be told until you needed to know,” she whispered back.

“I needed to know before we entered the room!”

“ _Iroh_ agreed not to tell you until precisely this moment.” That wasn’t even a lie. Azula had to admit she was a little impressed at the old man’s ruthlessness.

Batting away Zuko’s hand, Azula turned back to Kachi and her screaming kid. “As I was saying, it’s simply too dangerous to let your daughter leave with you. The most straightforward solution is to just kill her—” Kachi gasped and Zuko backed away, which Azula couldn’t help but be amused by, “—but we wouldn’t do that. We’re not Ozai, after all. Luckily, there is a third option.” She smiled casually. “Zuko adopts her and makes her his heir.”

Kachi was speechless. Zuko was somehow even more speechless. The toddler was still bawling. Azula continued, “If she’s a princess, she’ll be as safe as any human can be. Besides, dissidents will view her as being on Zuko’s side, not their own, so they’ll have no reason to make her a figurehead.” Just as importantly, the girl _herself_ would have much less of a reason to overthrow her half-brother, but better not to say that here. “In sum, then, you’ll get to go and do whatever you wish, but your daughter must remain here.”

Zuko’s hand gripped her shoulder again, so tightly this time it hurt. “What are you doing?” he whispered fiercely into her ear. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“Because we knew you’d object,” she answered easily.

“Of course! She’s my—our—half-sister! And I’m _sixteen_! I can’t raise a child!”

“Sure you can. You’ll have plenty of servants to help out.”

“That’s not the point! I...I’m already scared shitless about being the Firelord, Azula. I can’t...”

This conversation had already gone on much longer than it needed to. She already said everything that needed to be said. Now she just wanted it to be _over_. So she told Zuko, “I guess you have some idea of what it’s like to be the Avatar, then.”

She had probably said that in a really hateful way, but that was okay. Beneficial, even, because it shut Zuko up. She turned back to Kachi. “This is not a negotiation, to be clear. I’m making an offer and you can take it or leave it. I _highly_ recommend you take it.”

Silence stretched on. Eventually Kachi spoke, in a weak, wavering voice. “I...the only thing that stopped me from killing myself these last few years was Azaka. Do I...do I really have to…?”

The toddler’s cries were soon joined by the mother’s. Azula couldn’t stand listening to them, and there was nothing more to do here anyway. She left the chambers of the Firelady, slamming the door hard behind her.

* * *

**End of Prologue**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's weird to have the climax of the original show be the Prologue of my fanfic. There are two main reasons for this. First, my version of this battle is so one-sided it would be really anticlimactic if I made it the climax. Second, even though Azula accomplishes her goal of killing Ozai in this chapter, it isn't really the culmination of her character development--almost the opposite--so it's not really the climax at all. (I also won't deny that it gives me a certain hipster satisfaction in making the show's climax the first part of my story.)
> 
> A "bu" is an ancient Japanese unit of measurement (taken from the Chinese, as lots of ancient Japanese things were), that Wikipedia tells me is roughly equivalent to 3 millimeters. “Li, Shou, and Jun” are common names (an adaptation of the American idiom “Tom, Dick, and Harry”).
> 
> This is a rewrite of my previous fanfic, "The Adventures of Avatar Azula," which you can find on my fanfiction.net page (link in my profile). Like the original, this fanfic will have three main story arcs. One will cover the period from the end of Prisoner to this chapter, and will basically cover the events of canon in this universe. The second will cover the events that follow this chapter. The third will be Azula’s long, slow, torturous process of opening all her Chakras.
> 
> I’m going to do my best to post updates every week, though since the entire fanfic is not finished yet it is possible I won’t be able to keep this up until the end.
> 
> Incidentally, I'm still not entirely used to Archive of Our Own, so let me know if there are any formatting errors, or if there are any additional tags you think I should add.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope to see you in the next one, too!


	2. The Blind Bandit

Special thanks to my betas, Devon and Aurelia Le!

* * *

**The Right To Rule**

An _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ fanfic

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**The Blind Bandit**

* * *

Azula had spent more than two years in the hideously cold South Pole, surrounded by people she hated, continuously trying and failing to airbend for hours a day. It was misery on a level that surpassed human limits.

Now, one month after leaving, as she found herself sitting in a stuffy arena surrounded by hundreds of men (and they were all men) shouting their lungs out with sounds that had at most a passing acquaintance with meaning, she found herself missing those innocent days.

_Remember why you’re here,_ she told herself. She was making fast strides with airbending after her “revelation” and there were plenty of waterbending instructors to choose from, so everyone had agreed the next major task would be finding an earthbending sifu. Azula had figured it would be easy enough to get one of those in Ba Sing Se, but then Iroh gave her some quite interesting information:

Apparently, there were reports of a _blind_ earthbender participating in (and winning at!) some sort of underground fighting tournament in the city of Gaoling.

“Two questions,” Azula had said to him. “One, reports from whom, and two, _why didn’t you tell me earlier_?”

“Reports from Earth Kingdom citizens we’re in contact with,” Iroh had replied, clearly dodging her first question. As for her second, “I thought it would be best if you focused on airbending rather than demanding to see this earthbender.”

At the time, Azula had still been too giddy from her success at airbending to think much about that. Now that she _could_ think about it, Iroh wasn’t here for her to berate. He was off gallivanting across the Earth Kingdom with Zuko, leaving her with Kalu (Hakoda’s bastard son, resident physician, and their ostensible leader), Naya (that old bag Hama’s top student and her new waterbending sifu), and Sokka (Hakoda’s non-bastard son, here because he insisted on “being a part of history”; Azula suspected he was just jealous Zuko was getting to travel).

Needless to say, it had been a joyous trip.

“I am your host, Xin Fu,” the host, apparently named Xin Fu, announced. “Are you ready for Earth! Rumble! Six!!”

The entire crowd erupted into cheers, Sokka (who was sitting next to her) the loudest of them all. Azula covered her face with the straw hat she bought as part of her Earth Kingdom disguise.

“You’re not the only one unhappy to be here,” Naya said tonelessly at her other side.

“You didn’t _have_ to come on this trip, you know.”

“I do my duty, even if the concept is foreign to you.”

They didn’t get along.

“Now, give a warm welcome to the terror from down under, the former champion seeking to regain his lost glory, the one, the only, _Boulder_!”

_This is a necessary sacrifice_ , Azula told herself. _If this gets me someone who’ll teach me how to fight while blind, it’ll all be worth it._

“The Boulder’s gonna win this, _in a landslide_!”

… _You win this round, Earth Rumble._ She stood up, only to be shoved back into her seat by Naya.

“I refuse to suffer this alone,” Naya said.

Azula spent the next loud, boring, spirit-crushing hours conjuring up elaborate revenge fantasies against her three companions.

“The Boulder knows how to put the _hurt_ in the _dirt_!” Sokka yelled.

He was the victim of the majority of Azula’s fantasies.

Eventually, _finally_ , they got to what the announcer accurately described as ‘the moment we’ve all been waiting for’: “The Boulder versus your champion, the _Blind Bandit_!”

Azula hated being dependent on her companions, but sometimes it was unavoidable. “So? What’s he look like?”

She got no response, unless you counted Sokka’s cheering.

“Well?” she demanded.

“It’s…not a he,” Naya finally said.

“She’s a little girl!” Kalu cheerfully added.

Azula reached under the cloth covering her eyes and scratched one of her eye sockets. _Congratulations, Earth Rumble, you have my complete, total, and unconditional surrender_ , she decided. She stood up again, and was shoved back into her seat by Naya again.

“We’ve come this far,” the woman said, sounding like she was speaking through gritted teeth.

Azula clenched her fists but didn’t resist.

Ten seconds later, though, her sullen mood was dashed to pieces when she heard Sokka moan in agony, punctuated by Kalu’s “Holy crap.”

“What just happened?” she asked.

“The Blind Bandit kicked the Boulder’s ass,” Kalu said, almost reverently.

“As if she could actually see him,” Naya said, shock overcoming her usual monotone.

All the hair on Azula’s body stood at attention as her stomach started somersaulting.

The announcer called out an offer of a sack of gold to anyone who could beat the blind girl.

Azula nudged Naya. “Do it.”

“What!?” Naya said, sounding offended.

“Go down there and find out who she is,” Azula ordered.

“I’m _not_ going to fight her,” Naya said. “And _don’t_ act like you can order me around.”

“What? No one dares to face her?” The announcer was feigning surprise.

“You don’t have to fight her, just get her name!” Azula’s breathing was getting ragged.

“You think she’s going to just tell me?”

“She might!” Azula could tell she sounded desperate, but she didn’t care. She _was_ going to get this girl.

“Naya’s right,” Kalu broke in. “This is neither the time nor place. Just be patient. There must be someone who knows who she is.”

“Are you kidding? Nobody knows who the Blind Bandit is,” someone said. Azula cursed Kalu for being overheard. “She just showed up at the last Earth Rumble, kicked everyone’s ass, and left.”

“I heard she’s the Earth King’s secret daughter, getting some training before leading us to victory against the Fire Nation,” said a man from Azula’s other side.

“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong,” said a man from above her. “She was abandoned in the wild and raised by badgermoles.”

“Idiot,” yet another man said in contempt. “Badgermoles wouldn’t have taught her how to speak. No, she’s the long-lost descendant of Avatar Kyoshi and she’s going to free us from Ba Sing Se’s tyranny like her ancestor did Chin’s.”

_That_ comment led to a heated, stupid political debate that managed to be almost as annoying as the previous cheers and boos. Azula and her companions got the hell out of there.

* * *

Kalu had to admit, the Earth Rumble had been pretty fun. It was definitely a lot more entertaining than spending several fruitless hours asking around, trying and failing to find out who the Blind Bandit was.

Though it was pretty interesting to find out just how much the little Avatar _wanted_ to know about the Blind Bandit. The typically ice-faced Azula, who would rather die than show weakness, was becoming more and more angry, and more and more _desperate_ , as each failure piled up. Even when she was trying and failing to airbend, she had rarely shown much in public other than grim determination.

“Man,” Sokka yawned as they walked away from their newest failure, “you’d think people’d be more excited about the Earth Rumble, but all they can talk about is how unsafe it is northwest of here since travelers keep getting their throats slit or whatever.”

“Thank you for focusing on what’s truly important here,” Azula said, perhaps ladling on the sarcasm a bit thicker than necessary.

“Seriously, though,” Sokka continued, “why would any of these guys know who the Blind Bandit is?”

“Do you have a better idea?” Azula asked caustically.

“Well…” Sokka scratched his chin.

“That’s what I thought. Come on then, let’s—”

“Ooh! I know! How about that announcer guy, Bin Lu or whatever?”

Everyone turned to face him.

“What?” Sokka said.

Kalu grinned. Naya sighed. Azula yelled at him, “Why didn’t you come up with that earlier, you imbecile!?”

After a quick investigation, the four of them were off to the residence of the Earth Rumble announcer and owner, Xin Fu. They got an appointment by claiming to be interested in participating in the next Earth Rumble.

Xin Fu’s office was a small and dank thing, made smaller by how many people were in it: seven, counting the man’s two guards. Kalu was surprised—he would’ve expected the owner of such a popular attraction to be richer. Maybe he had a gambling problem or something.

“So, you say you want to be in the next Earth Rumble?” Xin Fu asked, face fixed in a seemingly permanent glare. “All of you?”

“Actually,” Kalu said, taking on the role of the group’s face, “I’m afraid that was a tiny lie. We wanted to talk with you about a vitally important matter.”

Xin Fu’s expression grew darker, but he didn’t say anything. Kalu took that as permission to continue.

“We’re interested in the identity of the Blind Bandit.”

“You aren’t the first,” Xin Fu responded immediately. “I have no reason to tell you, and even if I did, I don’t know. Now get out, or—”

Xin Fu was interrupted by a torrent of water from Naya. Sokka brained one of the guards with his boomerang while Kalu hit _just_ the right spots of the other with his dagger and a little waterbending to make him faint.

Xin Fu, now frozen to his office wall, glared down at the four of them. “Do you honestly expect to get away with this?”

“Hey, this is for the greater good,” Sokka objected.

Xin Fu sneered. “Trying to draft her, eh? I don’t care whether the Fire Nation or Ba Sing Se rules; my life will be the same either way. Feel free to kill each other as much as you want, just leave me out of it.”

Sokka started to argue with him. Kalu casually strolled to Xin Fu’s desk and started rummaging through his papers.

“You _must_ know who she is,” Naya said, forming a blade of ice and pointing it at the man’s throat. “Now tell us.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Kalu saw Xin Fu’s glare deepen. “And why should I believe you won’t kill me after finding out what you want to know?”

While Naya tried unsuccessfully to bully the information out of him, Kalu hummed as he moved his hands about the man’s records. Finally, just as he was starting to worry Naya really _would_ slit his throat, he found it: a secret compartment hidden at the bottom of one of the drawers.

“Oh- _ho_ ,” he said, smiling at Xin Fu’s sudden look of terror. He drew out the papers hidden in the compartment and glanced over them. “How interesting. I wasn’t aware the Earth Rumble is faked.”

Sokka looked like someone just killed his favorite seal-puppy. On the other hand, Naya rolled her eyes while Azula harrumphed dismissively. Xin Fu, for his part, gritted his teeth and said, “Only the earlier rounds.”

Kalu nodded. “To ensure the final bout is between compelling characters. Fair enough, I suppose, but how would your fans feel if they found out?”

He looked at Xin Fu expectantly.

It didn’t take long for the lord of fakery to fold.

“I assume you’ve heard of the Beifongs?”

* * *

Toph was in a good mood. The Earth Rumble was her only real opportunity to fight, and she relished every moment of it. When she won it last time, the high was enough to get her through weeks of having to deal with her parents.

So when Mother told her they were going to have some guests over, she took it in stride. Until she learned who the guest of honor was.

“The Avatar!?”

“Yes,” Mother said, and Toph could detect a hint of caution in her voice. “Your father thinks she is hoping we might help fund the war against the Fire Nation.”

_How can we know the former princess of the Fire Nation_ wants _to fight them?_ Toph thought. She knew her parents—and probably the entire Earth Kingdom, really—were thinking the same thing. Having that person in her house made her…

Not _nervous_. Toph didn’t get nervous. More… _concerned_. Yes, that was the right word.

The next thirty minutes passed in a whirlwind of activity as Mother made her “presentable” (Toph knew by now not to try any resistance), until the dinner finally began.

After the customary greetings were over with, the visitor who had introduced himself as ‘Kalu’ said, “I wasn’t aware you had a daughter.”

Toph had to fight to keep her expression neutral. She knew what was coming.

“Well, our family has its fair share of enemies,” Father said as if he was discussing the weather. “Since Toph is blind and unable to defend herself, she would be too tempting a target for our enemies to pass up if they knew of her. So to protect her, we keep her existence a secret.”

She had heard it all before, but Toph still had trouble keeping her face expressionless and her earthbending under control whenever her parents talked like that.

“Then I am honored you have trust enough in us to introduce her,” the man, Kalu, quickly replied. While his tone was the picture of politeness, his heart had started beating just a _bit_ more rapidly. He was hiding something.

Dinner started and the conversation was pleasant if boring, but Toph could smell the tension in the air. For some reason, she felt like the Avatar’s party was paying more attention to her than to her parents. In any event, nobody said anything interesting until the other man in the Avatar’s party, Sucka or something, said, “So, you guys ever hear of the Earth Rumble?”

Toph was so surprised she dropped her fork. Her thoughts ran in a million different directions. Luckily nobody seemed to notice, and Father said, “I understand it’s some barbaric sport unfortunately popular among the masses these days.”

“Barbaric!?” Sucka shouted. “I’ll have you know— _ow_!”

“I apologize for my companion’s incivility,” Kalu said smoothly, his calm notes punctuated by Sucka’s groans of pain. “We attended the most recent iteration a few days ago.”

Well, that cinched it. But if they were here for her, why were they beating around the bush so much? The Avatar hadn’t even said anything after her self-introduction.

“I see,” Father said. “What were your impressions?”

“The combatants were more skilled than I expected,” the Avatar said.

Toph froze, ears pricked in anticipation.

“Is that so?” Father said.

“Yes. Particularly the champion. I’m thinking of asking her to be my earthbending sifu, actually.”

Toph wasn’t expecting _that_ , and she wasn’t sure what to think about it. Father said, “I would recommend against that. If you want an earthbending instructor, Master Yu is far more suitable than some savage—”

Toph slammed her fists on the table and stood up.

“I-Is something wrong, dear?” Mother sounded very startled.

“I’m full.” Toph stalked outside, ignoring her parents’ calls after her. She couldn’t give a shit about how she looked at the moment.

* * *

“I apologize profusely for my daughter’s insubordination,” the Blind Bandit’s father, Lao, said after the girl left. He sounded almost submissive. It confirmed his terror of Azula, which made things easier.

The dinner so far had more or less gone according to plan: let the Blind Bandit know they were looking for her, then see how she reacted. Luckily, her running away had been one of the contingencies Azula planned for, so she was able to smoothly transition to the next phase.

“Don’t worry about it. I have my fair share of impolite moments, too,” Azula calmly replied, sipping her tea.

“That’s one word for it,” Kalu whispered to her. She ignored him.

“I promise,” said the mother, Poppy, “I will get her back as soon as—”

“Why don’t I talk with her?” Azula offered.

She waited a second to let that sink in, then continued. “We’re not much different in age, and we’re both blind. That might give us a chance to connect.”

The two parents certainly didn’t seem happy, but they weren’t in a position to refuse a request from the Avatar. “I suppose that makes sense,” Lao eventually said slowly. “She’s probably in the garden again. Shall I lead you there?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to interrupt your dinner,” Azula replied casually as she stood up. “Just have one of your servants do it.”

“O-Of course,” Lao stammered.

“Try not to pointlessly beat this one up,” Kalu whispered to her. She ignored him again, and reluctantly outstretched a hand for the servant to guide her.

She really hated being so dependent for the most basic things.

* * *

Toph knew it was stupid to sulk. It wasn’t like Father _meant_ to insult her like that. But she still didn’t want to be around anyone right now.

She heard, and saw, two sets of footsteps behind her. She recognized them as the Avatar and one of Toph’s servants. “I’d like to talk to her in private,” the Avatar said, and the servant went back inside the house.

“What’re _you_ doing here?” Toph asked, meaning to sound indignant but instead just sounding whiny.

“Hello to you too,” the Avatar said, voice heavy with annoyance.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Why are you angry at me? I’m not the one who insulted you.”

Toph let out a long sigh. She didn’t really want to talk with the former-Fire Nation-princess-current-Avatar, but it seemed she didn’t have a choice now—at least if she didn’t want to cause an international incident. “Fine. Sorry. But for the record, I wasn’t annoyed by my father’s ‘savage’ crack; I just…” She sighed again. “I’m tired of them treating me like some kind of porcelain doll, is all.”

The Avatar had the sense not to respond to that, at least.

“So why _are_ you here?” Toph asked again.

The Avatar was silent for a bit. Toph got the impression she was the type to carefully consider each word. “I was serious, about wanting you to be my sifu.”

Some part of Toph knew she ought to be feeling honored or something, but she wasn’t in any mood to be. “Cause I won the Earth Rumble?” she asked, filling her voice with sarcasm.

“No, because I want to learn how to fight while blind.”

_That_ brought her up short. “Huh?”

“When Firelord Ozai discovered I was the Avatar,” she said, and Toph could hear a boiling undercurrent of rage below the businesslike tone, “he didn’t just imprison me. He tore out my eyes. Now I—” suddenly a crack appeared in her heretofore stolid performance, “—I can’t fight, at all. I need…no, I _want_ to fight again. And I think I need your help for that.”

For once Toph didn’t have a clever retort handy. After a minute, all she could think of was, “I’ll think about it.”

“...I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to decide immediately.”

That done, an uncomfortable silence soon developed. Toph wanted to break it, and at the same time figure out something that had been bugging her. “By the way, Avatar,” she said, “how’d you know I was the Blind Bandit?”

“Oh, that Earth Rumble announcer told me.”

Toph raised an eyebrow. “Really? I might have to beat him up for leaking that.”

“Well, technically, we kind of blackmailed the information out of him.”

Toph was very proud of her ears, and whenever people talked she always paid close attention to every word. But she had to repeat that sentence in her head to make absolutely sure she heard it right. “You blackmailed him.”

“Yes.”

“Xin Fu?”

“I believe that was his name, yes.” The idiot was _smug_ about it too.

“Do you have any idea—”

_Clang!_

_Aw, crap_ , Toph swore.

“Sorry, Blind Bandit.” She heard Xin Fu’s triumphant voice through the metal box now encasing her. “It was fun while it lasted. Nothing personal.”

* * *

Kalu found the ransom note first, and elected to read it aloud.

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Lao Beifong,_

_I have kidnapped your daughter. If you bring one thousand gold pieces to the Earth Rumble arena by sundown tonight, I will release her. Come by yourselves, unless you wish for her other senses to disappear as well._

_Sincerely,_

_Xin Fu_

“They must’ve taken the Avatar, too,” Naya said tersely.

“I _knew_ that guy was evil!” Sokka said, pumping his fist in the air.

“Yet he didn’t mention her in the ransom letter,” Kalu mused aloud, looking airily at the Beifongs. Both of their faces were snow-white.

“I apologize, but we must take care of this matter as soon as possible,” Lao said weakly.

“What are you saying?” Sokka almost yelled. “We’re going with you!”

“But the ransom note—”

“I don’t think this Xin Fu character can be trusted,” Kalu said, putting the note into his pocket. “It’s entirely possible he’ll kill your daughter whether or not you give him the money.” He couldn’t deny a certain satisfaction in seeing their faces turn even _whiter_ when he said that. “In any event, since he took the Avatar we’re involved too. Right, Naya?”

Naya nodded, face as firm as steel.

“Right, then, we’d better get going.” He started walking toward the arena, not bothering to wait for Lao and Poppy to catch up.

Azula had wanted to kill Xin Fu when they were done with him _,_ Kalu recalled, though she’d said it jokingly. He and the others had quickly shot it down, of course, but he was starting to regret it now. Well, since the Beifongs were the richest family in town, they should have influence enough to put him in prison when all was said and done.

_Then again_ , he thought, _doesn’t_ _Xin Fu know that, too? In which case, just what game is he playing at?_

… _Damn, Azula is a lot better at this wheels within wheels stuff than I am._

* * *

Not only had Azula gotten kidnapped by some two-bit thug, she didn’t even know _why_. It’s not like she could just ask him—

“What are you _thinking_!?” Toph shouted.

“I’ve had a good run these past few years with the Earth Rumble,” Xin Fu responded lazily, “but your friend the Avatar showed me those days are numbered.”

_...Why do I even bother_. Azula muttered, “I wasn’t going to tell anyone your stupid tournament was fake.”

“ _Stupid_!?” Toph yelled.

“Be that as it may,” Xin Fu said, “I’m getting out of here. You can consider the ransom money a going-away present, Blind Bandit, in exchange for all I’ve done for you.”

“Try saying that while I’m on the ground!” Toph’s yelling was beginning to hurt her ears.

“Nice comeback,” Azula deadpanned.

“Who asked you!?”

“ _Be quiet_ ,” Xin Fu commanded, “or I’ll break your arms!”

“Well now, we can’t have that, can we?” an unexpected voice said.

“Kalu?” Azula half-whispered.

Xin Fu growled. “I thought I told you to come alone, Lao Beifong.”

“If my presence is unacceptable,” Kalu smoothly replied, “then I suppose our negotiation is over. Come along, Lao, Poppy.”

Azula grinned. His performance was a bit amateurish, but for a barbarian it was pretty good.

“B-But, you can’t—!” Lao stammered.

“Unfortunately, Lao,” Kalu said apologetically, “I have custody of the money, and therefore the authority to negotiate. By the way, thanks for getting the money for me, Naya.”

Azula was overcome by fits of laughter. Unfortunately she had never seen the Beifongs, which made imagining the looks on their faces difficult, but she tried her best regardless.

“Fine,” Xin Fu eventually said, sounding very annoyed. “You can stay. But I’m not going below one thousand.”

After a few seconds, Kalu said, “Very well.” Azula heard something get tossed onto the ground, followed a few seconds later by a loud _thump_ ; based on the location it was probably Toph landing on the ground after getting released.

“What about the Avatar?” Kalu asked. Azula had to admit she too was worried about that.

“Sadly, I’m given to understand the Firelord is offering a much greater reward than a thousand gold pieces for _her_ successful capture,” Xin Fu said.

_So that’s his plan—use me to buy a high-ranking position in the Fire Nation. And maybe get a little revenge in the bargain._ She hadn’t really been serious when she recommended killing him earlier; she was rethinking that now.

Luckily Naya was there too, and the noise of battle between the master waterbender and Xin Fu’s guards soon filled the stadium. Azula was just feeling annoyed that she couldn’t see the fight when someone yelled “Brace yourself!” and the trapdoor at the bottom of her cage opened. Azula twisted in the air and managed to land without breaking anything.

“What—?” she started to say.

Another _thump_ next to her, followed by a voice. “Still think I’m useless?”

Azula sighed. “Sokka.” So _that’s_ where he went. She was in fact slightly impressed he managed to get the trapdoor open, but she definitely wasn’t going to tell him that. “How’s the battle going?”

Sokka responded after a second. “Not well. Naya’s outnumbered, and she’s at a huge disadvantage with all this earth and no water around. Why isn’t the Blind Bandit helping out?”

_Because her parents are here, you imbecile_ , Azula thought. Tragically, she didn’t have time to berate Sokka. Instead she called out, “Hey, Toph! Are you going to just run away?”

It wasn’t Toph who responded, it was her father. “What are you talking about!? What else should she do!?”

Azula ignored him. “They only treat you like a porcelain doll because you let them, you know.”

“I have no idea what you’re—”

“Argh!” Toph shouted, interrupting her father. “Fine!”

Azula smiled when she heard Toph run back to the ring, followed by each of Xin Fu’s guards crying out in pain, and finally the man himself.

_This day is finally starting to look up._

* * *

Toph revealed everything to her parents when they got back to the mansion.

“…So now that you see who I really am, I hope it doesn’t change the way you feel about me,” she finished, her entire body feeling tied up in knots.

“Of course it doesn’t change the way I feel about you, Toph,” Father said. “In fact, it’s made me realize something.”

“It has?” She couldn’t believe it! All her dreams were—

“Yes. I’ve let you have far too much freedom! From now on, you will be cared for and guarded twenty-four hours a day!”

It felt like a boulder landed on top of her, and she had to devote all her energy to stop it from crushing her. What was she going to—

“Ah, unfortunately, I can’t allow that,” the Avatar broke in.

The words smashed into the boulder, breaking it into a million pieces. Toph was left lightheaded, unsure of what had just happened, replaying the words over and over in her head.

Nobody had talked back to her father before.

“ _You_ mind your own business, Avatar!” Father said, sounding as angry as Toph had ever heard him.

“I take issue with that statement,” the Kalu man said. “Our business concerns the entire world, which _does_ include you, Mister Beifong.”

The words smashed into her stomach with the force of a brick. She could hardly breathe. They were standing up to him, one of the most powerful men in the Earth Kingdom, for her.

“You don’t have the right to tell me how to raise my daughter!”

“Daughter, my ass!” the boy, Sokka, said. “My tribe treats the animals we kill with more respect than you’re showing her!”

Toph could barely tell which way was up and which was down anymore. They weren’t just standing up to him, they were outright insulting him. For _her_.

“Get out!” Father roared. “Get out or I’ll—”

The Naya woman quickly moved in front of Father. Toph’s mind was too hazy to tell for sure, but probably the woman was threatening Father in some way, because he wasn’t saying another word.

“Certainly, Mister Beifong,” the Avatar said, “you have the right to raise your daughter as you wish. But in this world, rights are worth only as much as the power used to back them up. As you can see, right now we hold far more power than you do.” She paused. Toph’s mind was empty; all she could do was listen.

“However,” the Avatar eventually continued, “I am not without morals. I don’t want to take your daughter away to fight the Fire Nation if she’d prefer to stay here. So,” the Avatar’s tone shifted, “Toph, would you rather go on an adventure with us, meet new people, visit exotic locales, teach me earthbending, fight the Fire Nation, and save the world? Or… stay here, and do nothing twenty-four hours a day?”

“Please,” Mother suddenly said, on the verge of tears. “Toph’s only twelve years old. She can’t—”

“In one year, she’ll be an adult,” the Avatar interrupted. “Now then, Toph, what’ll it be?”

Toph’s mouth opened, then closed. She wasn’t prepared to make this sort of decision. The Avatar and her friends were clearly manipulating her. And she couldn’t even imagine life away from her parents. Just the thought brought tears to her eyes.

Still though. Her parents were already driving her crazy. Being monitored every hour of every day would be so much worse. Plus, the prospect of being able to travel the world, fight the Fire Nation, and help save the Earth Kingdom filled her with far more excitement than winning the Earth Rumble ever did.

Besides…for the Avatar to do this much…

Toph had been thinking about it for a while. She really was the only one who could teach the Avatar how to _see_. And the idea of being needed for her unique skills wasn’t exactly a bad feeling.

“Sorry, Mother and Father,” she said, surprised at the tears rolling down her face. “I just… I want to be me, you know?”

* * *

After Toph made her decision, the negotiation with the Beifongs went better than Azula had anticipated. She hadn’t won their eternal loyalty, but promises to protect Toph, a guarantee of authority over some Fire Nation colonies after the war, combined with just enough subtle threats, managed to convince them not to resist.

Not like they could’ve done much anyway. They weren’t far enough gone that they’d try negotiating with the Fire Nation, and few others would be willing to go against the Avatar no matter how much money you threw around. They’d probably be a thorn in her side after the war, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made.

And Azula would be willing to sacrifice almost anything to be able to fight again.

After confirming that they’d keep Xin Fu locked up for a _long_ time, Azula and the rest departed, Toph in tow. She had stopped crying by then, but Azula could tell she was still harboring some reservations; she was hanging back from the rest of the group. It would be a good idea to build their relationship up some. And…Azula might have felt a _little_ bad for snatching her away from her parents like that, maybe. So she slowed her pace to match Toph’s and asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yeah,” Toph said, surprising Azula with an immediate answer. “I am. Besides, if you hadn’t done that I probably would’ve snuck out and joined you anyway. So don’t worry about it.”

“O-okay,” Azula replied, caught off-guard. Toph sounded _happy_. Chipper, even.

“Still, though, that was quite some speech,” Toph said. She jabbed an elbow into Azula’s side, causing her to stumble a bit. “Never seen someone talk down my father like that. Nice going, Hot Lips.”

“H-Hot Lips?” Azula squeaked, offended at both the name and her own lame reaction to it. “What does that mean!?”

“I think you can figure it out.” Toph ran ahead to join the others, leaving Azula standing by herself like an imbecile.

… _Somehow I get the impression I have no idea what I just got myself into._

* * *

Mongke was having a bad week.

The army had apparently been getting reports of a band of guerrillas targeting Fire Nation soldiers near an Earth Kingdom town they had captured. So Mongke and his elite Rough Rhino squad were hired to find the guerrillas and take them out. As they were staying in the town in question, though, it got destroyed in a flood that killed most of the inhabitants, including all of Mongke’s subordinates. It was honestly a miracle that Mongke himself got out of there alive. But it meant the Rough Rhinos were effectively finished.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, when he camped out in a forest clearing close to Omashu and northwest of Gaoling a few nights later, he awoke to find a knife blade at his throat. His instincts took over and he grabbed the assailant’s wrist, but somehow it _slipped_ out of his grasp like water. Mongke kicked up some flames and jumped to his feet and away, looking around wildly for his attacker.

“You’re the first one who woke up before I slit their throat. I’m impressed, old man.”

The fire dissipated and he could make her out. She was a short and thin woman with a mushroom of thick, bushy brown hair that covered one eye. The other, murky green eye studied him closely. She held a knife in each hand and was pacing around him in a slow circle with a broad smile on her face.

“First, I’m only 36,” Mongke said. “Second, who are you and what do you want?”

“Your belongings, obviously,” the woman said, and rushed at him with far more speed than her short legs should’ve been able to give her.

Mongke retaliated with a few shots of fire, but the woman dodged them gracefully, dancing around them like a river flows around its rocks. He barely managed to kick up some flame fast enough to get away from her.

While scanning his surroundings, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Looking, he saw one of the woman’s knives flying with a string attached to it. The knife dipped and got tied around a tree branch. The woman used it to swing toward the tree, touching it with her feet only briefly before jumping off it. He prepared to launch a fireball, but she threw a dagger at him first. He dodged, then she slammed into him, knocking them both to the ground.

“Wait!” he yelled. He was lying on his back. The woman was on top of him, holding a knife to his throat. But she wasn’t cutting it. Yet.

“You’re no ordinary traveler,” she said. “Alright. I’ll hear you out.”

Mongke enjoyed seeing _kabuki_ plays whenever he returned to the Fire Nation, because the actors were very skilled at huge, dramatic displays of emotion. By contrast, most of Mongke’s emotions were dull and faded, as if he were looking at them through a small window or keyhole. Sometimes he regretted this, but in this case it was very helpful; he felt his fear only as a vague pang, so he was able to stay rational. “I’m a former Fire Nation Colonel,” he said. “Now I’m a mercenary captain, a very successful one. I’m a lot more useful to you alive and in your debt than dead.”

“Hm. A captain, you say. Where are your soldiers?”

“They’re dead.”

“How convenient.”

“We were in the town that got flooded.”

The woman clucked her tongue, keeping her knife at his throat. “Not very successful, then.”

He felt a rush of fear stronger than he had felt in years, intense enough that his breath almost hitched. His brain cast about wildly for some way to stay alive. He remembered the lessons in interrogation he took when he first got promoted. Building a rapport was important, he recalled. “You’re a strong fighter. Why are you in the middle of nowhere, killing random travelers for their money?”

“You want my life story?”

“I want to live.”

The woman chuckled. “Fair enough. How much do you know about Avatar Shen, old man?”

He was surprised, not just at the change in topic but also at the change in the woman. For the first time, she wasn’t smiling. “The last Avatar before the current one?” he said. He considered lying, then thought better of it. “Not much.”

“He was born in the Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se. Spent most of his life advocating for the poor and against the rich. This pissed off a lot of nobles. As you can imagine. Enough that some defected to the Fire Nation. My family was one of them.”

The conversation had taken an odd turn. It felt like they were almost on a strange sort of date now, especially since her face was so close. He glanced at the knife to remind himself of the stakes, then said to her, “If your family defected, what are you doing here?”

The woman finally smiled again. Her earlier smile had seemed pleasant, if you ignored that she was trying to kill him. This one was malicious. “I fucking hate my parents. They’re a couple of rich assholes who only care about feeling superior to everyone else. I ran away as soon as I could. Never regretted it. That said,” she leaned closer, “I have no reason to care about the Earth Kingdom either. And above all, I hate being told what to do. That’s why I’m killing random travelers for their money. So, old man, tell me again why I shouldn’t kill you too.”

While she was talking, Mongke had gotten an idea, inspired by his earlier strange thought. “I have a proposal,” he said. “Hear me out before killing me.”

The smile turned from malicious back to pleasant. “Fine. Why not.”

“Like I said, my squad is dead, so I need a new one. Trust me when I say that being a mercenary pays a _lot_ better than banditry.”

“Hm.” The woman pulled out another knife with her empty hand and started twirling it. She said, “Even if become a mercenary, why should I work for you? I already said I hate being told what to do. Unless I’m mistaken.”

Mongke was starting to think this wouldn’t work, but he couldn’t go back now. “Like I said, I’m a former Colonel. I have a lot of contacts from my army days, so I can get us good jobs.” She didn’t seem to be buying it. He thought fast. “And...you wouldn’t actually have to follow my orders if you didn’t want to. We could be more like partners.”

“Hm,” she said again. The twirling continued. “How much do you make on the average job?”

“It varies. The better your reputation, the more you get. The most recent one was five hundred gold pieces.”

The woman whistled, a high-pitched noise in stark contrast to her rough, gravelly voice. “You’d better not be bullshitting me, old man.”

The last job’s reward _was_ on the high end. But he suspected—or hoped—that when he told the army this woman had bested _him_ in single combat, they’d be very interested in hiring her. “I know very well that if I tried, I’d end up with a dagger in my back.”

A fast, hard laugh erupted from the woman’s mouth. “Fair enough.” The knife stopped twirling. “Alright. What the hell.” The dull fear was replaced by a dull elation as she removed the other one from his throat. The woman stepped off him and Mongke rose unsteadily to his feet. “To be honest, old man, I kinda like you,” she said, and stuck out an empty hand. The other one was still holding a knife. “Looking forward to working with you. Partner.”

Feeling even more detached from reality than usual, he shook her hand. “Same. My name’s Mongke, by the way.”

“Otori.” She removed her hand. “By the way, I had a thought. You said you get more money the better your reputation?”

“Correct.”

“So the stronger our group is, the more money we’ll get. Right?”

He wasn’t sure he liked where she was going with this. “True. Why do you ask?”

Otori’s smile, pleasant for the last few minutes, turned back to malicious. “Because I have siblings who’re even stronger than I am.”

* * *

**End of Chapter 1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Japan’s Edo period, the age of majority for girls was 13 (for boys, it was 15). I figured the Fire Nation has the same custom.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that you continue reading!


	3. An Avatar's Daily Duties

**Timeline Note:** This chapter takes place approximately six years after Ozai’s death.

Special thanks to my previous beta Lavanya Six, and my current betas Devon and Aurelia Le!

* * *

**The Right to Rule**

An _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ fanfic

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**An Avatar’s Daily Duties**

* * *

In Azula’s dreams she could still see. When she woke up, her world became shrouded in darkness once more.

She allowed a few moments of self-pity, then kicked the person sleeping next to her.

“Wakey-wakey, Toph.”

Toph groaned and rolled over. Azula had trained her body to always wake up at 6am, but Toph had trouble sticking to a consistent schedule, in this and other areas.

“No hibernation this time, rich girl. Today’s schedule is jam-packed.”

It took a second kick, but Toph eventually crawled out of bed. If an earthbent patch of ground could be considered a “bed.”

After the War, Aang had said that she should travel the world instead of living in one place. Thinking that was stupid, Azula spent months looking for a permanent residence, trying to find the right balance between comfort, location, and not pissing off important people. She soon realized, however, that after three years of either living in a frozen wasteland or camping out with zero amenities, her standards for comfort had hit rock-bottom; after acquiring Zenmetsu, it was easy to travel pretty much wherever she wanted; and at this point she _wanted_ to piss off every important person she knew.

Occasionally, the bratty old dead Air Nomad did have a point.

“So what do we have to do again?” Toph yawned, as Azula made a couple of small basins from the earth and bent water into them from the nearby river.

“Ba Sing Se first,” Azula said. She splashed water onto her face, then started washing the rest of her body. “It’s time for my monthly inspection of Long Feng.”

“This early in the morning?”

Azula blew her bag toward her with a gust of wind, catching it in mid-air. “Each of _my_ Dai Li agents is available at different times, and if I just meet the same one each visit Long Feng will get suspicious.” She took a set of clean clothes out of the bag and put on the undergarments. “Keeps him off-guard, too.”

“Makes sense. What are this month’s topics?”

“You know how the anti-colonial terrorists are ramping up their activities?” Azula started putting on the trousers. “It’s suspicious. I need to find out if he’s involved with them.”

Toph flexed her feet, which meant she was mulling something over. “Just how long are you going to keep helping him stay in power?” she eventually said.

Azula sighed, holding up her undershirt and tunic. Her outfits were a lot less elaborate now than they were when she was the princess. Out of necessity, to be sure, but she still felt a small pang of disappointment every time she got dressed. She told Toph, “We’ve been over this. Kuei’s a pushover; someone else is always going to rule with him on the throne. If not Long Feng, it’d be How, and he’s been in the army all his life; war is all he knows. If neither, there’d be chaos.”

“And you can control Long Feng, right?”

“Yes,” Azula replied with an edge in her voice, “I can. That’s how I ensure there won’t be another war.”

They spent the rest of their time getting dressed and presentable in silence. Azula knew Toph didn’t particularly like, and wasn’t particularly good at, being her conscience. But everyone had a role to play. Toph was hardly the only one who wasn’t fond of hers.

* * *

“So I’ve been thinking,” Toph said while they were riding Zenmetsu to Ba Sing Se.

“Did it hurt?”

“Try saying that where I can see you, Hot Lips.”

“If only I had some boots to shake in.”

“ _Anyway_ , I was thinking about some new earthbending moves.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been experimenting lately using different parts of my body. I’ve gotten some interesting results using my head.”

“Maybe because that’s a new sensation for you?”

“Huh?”

“Using your head.”

“Oh, you’re on a roll today, Hot Lips.”

Zenmetsu roared under them, causing Toph to gasp in surprise. Azula grinned and leaned back to pat her flying bison’s head. “Thank you, Zenmetsu. I agree.”

“ _As I was saying_. It’s a lot harder to bend earth with my head; it’s kind of like trying to run through mud. But once I manage it, I get results much bigger and more… _substantive_ , if that makes sense.”

“Your explanations never make sense, Toph. We’ve talked about this.”

“You seem to learn my techniques just fine, though I guess you do suck at them.”

“Half our lessons involve me translating you into human speech, Dirt Foot.”

“And yet you can never make a nickname that isn’t embarrassingly lame.”

* * *

Back when she had eyes, Azula was a master of gleaning people’s true thoughts from their facial expressions and body language. Even after years of practice, though, she still couldn’t do the same from their voices. Toph did it through examining people’s heartbeat and breathing, but maybe that was a skill you could only pick up while you were young, since Azula never got a handle on it. This meant that while Toph wasn’t very good at politics or strategy, she was invaluable in interpersonal communication, especially with someone untrustworthy.

And “untrustworthy” was just about the kindest word one could use to describe Long Feng.

“As always, I am honored to host the Avatar, who maintains this wonderful peace that brings prosperity to all nations.”

Azula sensed a small vibration behind her. This was Toph’s signal that he was lying. Bullshit formality was _always_ a lie, of course, but Toph never tired of finding ways to annoy Azula without technically disobeying her.

“Now, what do you need from me?” Long Feng went on.

“Let’s start with the state of the Earth Kingdom,” Azula said.

The conversation progressed as these things tended to. Long Feng was smart enough not to lie about public information; his reports about rice production, taxes, revolt sentiment, and the like were always accurate. But when it came to things Azula _couldn’t_ confirm independently (or so he thought at least), especially the Dai Li itself, the lies proliferated like fungus.

The Dai Li’s main focus was infiltrating groups plotting rebellion: lie. He had no further information about the anti-colonial terrorists: lie. He was perfectly satisfied with his current station and level of power: in a shocking plot twist, lie.

She wasn’t going to accuse Long Feng to his face, but it provided a good guide as to what she should ask her Dai Li contacts about. Azula thanked him repeatedly and left after a half-hour conversation that seemed much longer.

It took another hour to find her available Dai Li contacts and speak with them. She confirmed that there were still far more Dai Li agents spying on foreign countries than monitoring the home-grown threat. She learned that the Dai Li was giving covert aid to the anti-colonial terrorists, not out of ideological agreement but as a way to help bloody the Fire Nation’s nose, but they couldn’t give her rock-solid proof. They didn’t know what Long Feng’s ultimate goals were, but that was okay; Azula had some pretty good guesses.

Despite what she said to Toph, she _was_ often tempted to just storm in and kill him. But you can’t always do what you want, even—or especially—if you’re the Avatar.

Overall, the Ba Sing Se segment of her day went relatively well, and she was in high spirits as she and Toph walked back to Zenmetsu. But her good cheer quickly evaporated when they got to the stable and found out someone was waiting for them.

“Message to Avatar Azula from Firelord Zuko,” the person said, evidently a herald.

 _Fantastic_ , Azula thought _._ “Yes?”

“Please come to the palace as soon as possible. We have an urgent matter to discuss.”

 _Meaning he’s getting overwhelmed by politics again_. “Understood.”

* * *

“Long flight then, huh?” Toph said as they ate a late breakfast/early lunch on Zenmetsu’s back.

“In fairness, we were going to the Fire Nation anyway; Zuko’ll just be a stopover.” Azula lay on her back and sighed, enjoying the feel of Zenmetsu’s soft fur under her. “We have something to do first, though. Some village has been having a series of bad harvests, and they think a spirit is to blame.”

“Your favorite, huh?”

“It’s the Avatar’s curse.”

“Some would call it a duty.”

“Same difference.”

* * *

“...so while it must be true that existence is an illusion, the question remains what is _receiving_ the illusion. I’m still trying to work it out, and my current theories are...” Aang trailed off (thank Agni), stopped walking, and pointed at a gyrating dark mass made up of the limbs, torsos, and heads of hundreds, if not thousands, of animals. “Well, there’s your problem.”

Azula looked at one portion of the creature in grim fascination. A fire ferret’s head was growing out of a goat-dog leg, and as it swung around it kept hitting what looked like the bottom halves of two rabaroos sewed together. “Ew.”

Aang frowned at her. “Don’t insult it. That’s a very sad spirit. Look, you see all those?” He gestured at the tree stumps that lay all around them. “That village must’ve cut down this forest, but the forest was home to a lot of animals. Their grief and anger at losing their home coalesced, and formed that.” He nodded at the writhing nightmare.

Looking back at the spirit, Azula saw a pitch-black spider-snake with insect wings biting ferociously at what appeared to be a hog-monkey’s hindquarters. She couldn’t comprehend why Aang would stick up for this creature. “Well, whatever the reason, those villagers’ crops are dying and they’ll soon starve. If you’re saying this...thing...is the cause of that, we need to deal with it somehow. So how?”

“I dunno.”

“How can you not know? Haven’t you been here for over a century?”

Aang shrugged. “Every spirit is different, Azula. They don’t all want the same thing. You’ll have to ask it.”

“Ohhh, _ask_ it. Why didn’t I think of that? I’m sure it’s just _dying_ to chat with me, too.”

“It is! You’re getting better at this, Azula.”

She stared at him. He grinned back at her. After she triple-checked that he was serious, she said, “I was being sarcastic.”

Aang went back to frowning. “Oh.” He gave her an _admonishing_ look. “It’s in great pain, Azula. Of course it wants to talk to someone about it. Wouldn’t you?”

Azula decided not to answer that question. Instead, she said, “So how am I supposed to talk to it? Are you saying it can speak?”

“Walk up and touch it.” She stared at him again, mouth open in shock. “Seriously. It’s not dangerous. Go on.”

 _Can spirits go senile?_ Azula wondered. But she didn’t have much choice. She walked up to the spirit...creature...thing...and with an overwhelming sense of trepidation, laid her hand on what appeared to be a patchwork face made up of at least five different animals.

Images flickered across her mind. An axe cutting down a tree, blood pouring out of the stump. A large skeletal forest, each branch topped with a skull. Two baby rabaroos trapped in a small cave biting chunks out of each other. A pack of goat-dogs shivering in the snow.

The sun shining as a new forest rises out of the ground.

Azula removed her hand.

“Well?” Aang asked.

“I think they just want a new home.”

He smiled. “You see? Most spirits are honest, Azula. Just ask them what they want, and they’ll tell you.”

She looked up at the patchwork spirit, each of its many parts continuing to writhe in agony. Was she really starting to pity this thing? Azula was struck with a sudden terror that if she spent too much time in the Spirit World, she’d end up like _Aang_. “Alright, I know how to solve the problem, so time to go back.” She turned around on her heel and started striding back in the direction of her body.

Out of the corner of her eye—for lack of a better word—she saw Aang wave. “Good luck, Azula! See you later!”

_Much later, I hope._

* * *

“All they have to do is plant a new forest? You sure?” Toph asked as they began the long flight to the Fire Nation.

Azula scratched Zenmetsu’s neck. Her bison had groaned in frustration when she told her their destination. It’s not like Azula herself was particularly excited at the prospect of spending most of the day flying, but she knew Zenmetsu was the one doing the actual work. She’d have to think of some suitable reward later. She said to Toph, “Not a _new_ forest, per se. They have to expand the old one until it’s as big as it used to be, and not cut down a tree without also planting a new one. In the meantime, they do what’s necessary to enable the remaining animals to live in the current area.” Azula shrugged. “It’ll be hard, but better than starving. For both the humans and the animals.”

“I really don’t get spirits, honestly.”

“I suppose it does take a refined mind. You should probably stick to dirt.”

Toph kicked her. Azula laughed.

* * *

“Sorry for calling you out here on such short notice. You can stay for dinner if you want,” Zuko said.

“It’s fine.” Azula didn’t bother to keep the annoyance out of her voice. “And no thanks, I’m going to have to leave immediately after we finish.” Not that she would’ve stayed even if she _did_ have the time, of course.

“Fair enough.”

“What did you want to talk about?”

Zuko cleared his throat. “I got a report from Zhao two days ago. He says the Imperialists are becoming even more radicalized, and are likely to try something soon. He’s doing his best to calm them down, but…”

“Yes?”

He sighed. “The sedition laws aren’t exactly helping.”

_Of course. I should’ve guessed this was why he sent for me._

Not every Fire Nation citizen was happy with Zuko’s focus on peace and reconciliation, unsurprisingly. At first the opposition was mostly limited to a few hawkish officers and a handful of power-hungry nobles. It gained momentum when Zuko agreed to contribute a large amount of funds for the other nations’ reconstruction. The colonial compromise, which angered everyone, fueled it even more. But it was Zuko’s perceived tepid response to the anti-colonial terrorists that gave the movement enough popular support to really get into high gear.

Luckily, Azula had had the foresight to assign Zhao the task of infiltrating the Imperialists from the beginning. His credibility was almost unquestionable since he led the Northern Water Tribe invasion during the War. Nevertheless, Zhao alone was not enough; other steps had to be taken to contain the Imperialists. Namely, the sedition laws.

During Ozai’s reign, it had been against the law to even _mention_ politics unless you were given special permission. After taking over, Zuko had abolished almost all restrictions on political speech. Two years later, Azula convinced Mai to have a talk, and for the first and last time they spoke as one to convince Zuko to nip the Imperialist problem in the bud before it killed him, started another war, or both.

Eventually they managed to convince him to execute a prominent Imperialist, which got the point across: criticizing the Firelord’s domestic policy is okay; criticizing his foreign policy isn’t; repeatedly advocating his overthrow would result in the aforementioned execution. (Zuko had felt guilty about it for years afterward, but you can’t argue with success.)

Almost every time she met with him these days, though, Zuko complained about the sedition laws. He had a different excuse each time, but Azula knew the _real_ reason: ‘It’s too much like what Father would do.’

“ _I do hope,” Ozai went on, “you won’t let the foreigners rape our lands and people.”_

Azula shook her head. _The Imperialists taking over would only encourage that_ , she reminded herself.

“Something the matter, Azula?” Zuko asked.

She had spent too much time in reverie. Back to the topic at hand. “Are you suggesting,” she said slowly, “that the Imperialists are stronger _with_ the sedition laws than without them?”

“Not stronger, just more radical.”

“Oh, so instead of just wanting to make you a figurehead, now they want to kill you?”

“I’m just saying—”

“I know what you’re saying. The point of the sedition laws isn’t to convince anyone you’re right, it’s to prevent your opposition from effectively coordinating.”

“I know that!”

“And yet you apparently need to be constantly reminded.”

A tense silence followed.

“Fine,” Zuko said angrily. “How’s your investigation of the anti-colonial terrorists going?”

Now it was Azula’s turn to sigh, as much to give herself time to think as anything else. She had to be careful about what to tell Zuko; if he learned too much about what Long Feng was up to, she didn’t trust him enough not to cause an international incident.

“It’s very difficult to track guerrillas,” she said eventually, “especially when some of them are earthbenders. It’s similar to the difficulties the Fire Nation faced dealing with the Southern Water Tribes during the War. I’ve been working with the colonial governors on defensive tactics, which have been somewhat effective. However, until we get a definite lead, I won’t be able to take the offensive.”

“No luck in finding anyone willing to inform on them?”

“Oh, they’re willing, believe me. But that Jet is a paranoid little rat—anyone we capture he gives up on. And since he keeps getting new recruits…” Azula realized she was scratching her eye socket and moved her hand down, embarrassed. She couldn’t remember when she had first picked up that habit, and it was frustratingly difficult to break.

“Well, keep your eyes—er, senses—open. Jet will mess up one day.”

“Indeed.” Azula had her own plans for forcing Jet out into the open (a few of the seeds she’d planted in the Dai Li were due to sprout soon) but it was better for Zuko not to know about _that_ plan.

They talked a bit about the Water Tribes and minor domestic issues, until Azula decided she was about to run late for her final appointment and got up to leave.

Then Zuko asked a question that brought her mind to a halt.

“How are _you_ doing, Azula?”

Azula froze. She spent a full minute trying to decide whether to lie or not, or even if she knew what the truth _was_ , before she decided _screw it_ _._

“The things I’m doing don’t come naturally to me. But I’ve become convinced that’s probably for the best…for the world and for me. So I’m hanging in there.”

She left before Zuko got the chance to say another word.

* * *

After leaving Zuko, Azula didn’t head straight back to Toph and Zenmetsu. Whenever she visited the Royal Palace, there was always one other person she stopped by to see. She went to their room and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” they said. Azula opened the door and entered.

She heard an excited squeal. A girl ran up and hugged her tightly. “Aunt Azula!”

“Hello, Azaka.” Azula patted her niece on the back awkwardly for a few seconds, then she grasped the girl’s shoulders and gently moved her backward, breaking the hug.

“How long are you going to be here?” Azaka said excitedly.

“Not for long, I’m afraid. I’m just stopping by.”

“Awww.” Azaka sounded very dejected. A second later she cheered up and said, “I’ve been reading about your battle at the North Pole. You were so cool!”

 _Not quite the word I’d use_. “Thanks for saying so. How are your lessons going?”

“Fine,” Azaka said quickly. “But, but! I can’t figure out how you _see_. Kalu should know but his book doesn’t say,” _since I ordered him not to_ , Azula thought, “Zhao’s book says it’s because your hearing is so good, Yue says you can see people’s spirits, Hahn says—”

Azula put her hand on the girl’s head to shut her up, then ruffled her hair. “I’ll tell you one day, when you’re older.”

“Why can’t you tell me _now_!?” Azaka pouted.

“Everything in its due course. You’ll understand eventually.” _Because there’s still a good chance the Imperialists will kidnap you, and I don’t want the information leaking._ She removed her hand from Azaka’s head and said, “That aside, other than reading every book ever written about me, what are you up to? Doing okay?”

Azaka turned around and went to sit on her bed. Azula closed the door and sat down next to her. The girl said, “I wish I could leave the palace without being surrounded by a hundred guards.”

“We have to keep you safe, Azaka. When you’re older—”

“Everyone always says when I’m _older_ , but right _now_ I can’t go anywhere with my friends! It really sucks.”

Azula hesitated for a few seconds, then said, “If you want, I can accompany you and your friends on a day trip. You’d have to get your father’s permiss—”

“Really!?” Azaka hugged her again, even more tightly than the last time. “Thank you so much, Aunt Azula! That’s so cool!”

 _Again, not quite the word I’d use._ She returned the hug and they sat in silence for a minute. Then Azula stood up. “Well, I should get going—”

“Wait!”

Azula stopped and turned her head.

“Um. Could you...um...” Azaka rarely sounded nervous like this. It made Azula worried. “I meet with Kachi once a month. It’s nice but, um, it’s kind of weird because there’s always servants there watching us. Do you think you could maybe talk to my parents about letting us be alone?”

This was a problem. Zuko and Mai had decided to tell Azaka the truth about her parentage from the beginning, and while the girl was usually good at hiding it, Azula knew she was desperately lonely. Azula was careful to provide the connection and support her niece/half-sister craved while in her presence. But she was also the one who had told Zuko that Kachi’s visits with Azaka needed to be supervised, in case Kachi got any bright ideas about kidnapping her blood daughter. So she had no idea what to say. The silence had already lingered for too long, though, and she needed to say _something_. “If that’s what your parents decided, I don’t think it’s my place to interfere.”

“But—!”

“They’re your parents, Azaka. I’m just the cool aunt.” She smiled, but she could tell Azaka wasn’t amused.

This was a _big_ problem. Azula couldn’t leave things like this. What would—

“ _You are the best daughter anyone could hope for. One day all of this will be yours, Azula.”_

She leaned down, judged Azaka’s position from the air currents that motion kicked up, and cupped her niece’s cheek with her hand. “You’ll be Firelord one day, Azaka. You have to be strong. Okay?”

Tears dampened Azula’s hand, then she felt Azaka nod. “Okay. I’ll be strong.”

“I know you will. I’m really proud of you.” She stood back up. “I need to leave. I should have some free time soon, so make sure to talk to your father about me taking you on a trip.”

Azaka nodded so vigorously that Azula didn’t need the air currents to sense it.

“Bye, then. Be good!” Azula walked out of her niece’s room, rubbing her hand on her pants to dry it.

* * *

“How’s Zuko doing?” Toph asked as they rode Zenmetsu to their final destination (Azula decided she’d cook a nice big dinner for the bison tomorrow). She typically spoke with Zuko alone, at his request, and she didn’t mind because he wasn’t going to lie to her.

“Same as always. He’s in way over his head, but Mai helps out a lot, and he’s learning. Slowly, but still.”

After a few seconds, Toph said, “I’m surprised to hear you praise her like that.”

Azula tightened her grip on Zenmetsu’s fur, causing her to make a small, annoyed groan. “Regardless of our personal relationship, Mai is extremely competent at what she does.”

“Roundabout way to put it.”

“Would you prefer me to say I hate her and she hates me, but she knows her court politics?”

“Um, yes. How long have we known each other again?”

Azula sighed and lay face-down.

“And Azaka?” Toph asked. “How is she?”

“She still basically worships me,” Azula said into Zenmetsu’s fur. “That’s good, right?”

“Is it?”

Azula thought of Katara. “Probably not in the long term. But it’s helpful for now.”

“Helpful?”

“If things go badly, she could be a bigger threat to me and Zuko than the Imperialists. So if she worships me, that’s helpful.”

“I see.” Toph didn’t have to express her disapproval explicitly; her tone was enough.

 _My conscience,_ Azula thought bitterly. She spread her arms on top of Zenmetsu, the feeling of Azaka’s tears still on her hand.

* * *

Azula’s final stop of the day was somewhat special. It was something she didn’t allow herself to do too often, both because she was so busy and for...other reasons she preferred not to think about.

A personal visit.

Ty Lee’s circus was back in the Fire Nation after three years in the Earth Kingdom, and they were having a special all-day performance which Azula was specifically invited to. She didn’t have the time or desire to spend the entire day there, but she decided she might as well attend the last bit. Because of the detour with Zuko and Azaka, this ended up being only the final thirty minutes or so.

As the Avatar she naturally got the best seat, front row and center. Not that she needed it, or even particularly wanted it, but what can you do.

At least Ty Lee seemed to be excited. Even after nine years of doing this circus thing, the happiness she radiated was so bright Azula almost felt like she could see it.

Toph was shifting uncomfortably in the seat next to her throughout the performance. Since Toph couldn’t see through airbending, she was far more limited in some situations than Azula, and while she never said so Azula knew she hated being reminded of it.

“I’m surprised you’re not complaining about how boring circuses are,” Azula commented at one point. She had meant it as a light jab, so she was surprised at Toph’s response.

“I know how important this is to you.”

They watched the rest of the circus in silence.

After the performance, Ty Lee guided Azula and Toph to her private room before embracing Azula in a tight hug. “It’s so great to see you again!” she said, as happy as Azula had ever heard her. “It’s been forever!”

“Two months,” Azula corrected, a little nervous.

Ty Lee broke the hug and said, “Great to see you again, too, Toph!”

“Wish I could say the same, but, well,” Toph said lightly, gesturing at her eyes, and Ty Lee laughed. They got along well, somewhat surprisingly.

“Anyway, you have to fill me in on the gossip about all the important people you know. And remember,” Ty Lee’s tone suddenly turned serious, “ _no politics_!”

“Yes, yes,” Azula said, and she and Toph proceeded to tell her all about the various indiscretions of the people in charge of the world, from Kuei’s long disappearances before being discovered drunk with his stupid bear (“And I swear, this time the bear was drunk, too!”) to the newest development in the unending saga of Yue and Sokka’s marriage (“If you judge it by amount of time spent with each one, you could definitively prove Sokka loves Zuko approximately ten times more than he loves Yue”). From there, the conversation ambled to anecdotes from the previous two months (“And then Zenmetsu threw up on us!”), and as always, a long rant from Ty Lee about the idiocy of her newest ex-boyfriend (“He called me ‘Ty.’ _Ty_! What was I _thinking_?”).

This, too, didn’t come naturally to Azula. But unlike the path of the Avatar, which she often cursed, she never regretted this one.

* * *

One of the side benefits of earthbending was it let you sleep relatively comfortably almost anywhere. Azula and Toph set up camp close to Ty Lee’s circus. Toph made patches of softer ground for beds, while Azula washed their clothes and mentally organized tomorrow’s schedule.

An hour later, Azula was still awake. She could tell Toph was, too.

“Hey, Toph,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Do you sometimes…”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Oh, come on.”

“It’s stupid.” Azula turned around to face the other way.

“Tian above, just say it.”

“No.”

“Say it or no metalbending instruction for a month.”

“...Fine.” Azula took a deep breath. “Do you sometimes wonder if…if what we’re doing really matters?”

Toph didn’t respond. It was an invitation to continue.

“When I gained control over the Avatar State, I saw the cosmos that exists beyond the world we live in. It was…immense. I just don’t know if…”

“You’re right. That is stupid.”

“Screw you.”

“Oh, space is big! I’m scared, Toph!”

Azula shot a fireball into the ground near Toph’s face.

“Hey! That almost burned me!”

“Oh, fire is hot! I’m scared, Azula!”

They kicked and slapped each other for a long time into the night.

* * *

**End of Chapter 2**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second arc of the three. If the first arc covers the events of canon (up to the invasion) in my new timeline, this one will have a much longer timespan and cover Azula's activities after the war. I'll return to the before-the-war arc in Chapter 4.
> 
> Regarding Toph’s “Tian above,” Tian was basically the chief god of imperial China (“Tian” literally means “Heaven” or “Sky”), so I thought it worked as some Earth Kingdom swearing. As for “Zenmetsu,” I’ll leave you to figure that out on your own.
> 
> Thanks a lot for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	4. Enlightenment 0

Special thanks to my previous beta Lavanya Six, and my current betas Devon and Aurelia Le!

* * *

**The Right to Rule**

An _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ fanfic

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Enlightenment 0**

* * *

Almost a year had passed since the end of the Hundred Year War. Thanks to Azula’s hard work—though she supposed others played a part too, especially Bumi, Kanna, Arnook, Iroh, and even Long Feng—an uneasy peace had returned to the world. The colonial issue was a major festering sore, admittedly, but the compromise she brokered had (more or less) calmed everyone down (for the time being), so it was certainly _permissible_ for Azula to take a little time off.

Still, as she scaled one of the mountains to the Eastern Air Temple, bending handholds and footholds into the rock as she went, Azula was finding it more and more difficult to convince herself this was a good idea.

* * *

“The Eastern Air Temple?” Azula said in disbelief. “Why go there?”

“You’ll find someone who can help you with being the Avatar,” Aang explained, smiling that infuriatingly large grin of his.

“How do you know that?”

Aang didn’t meet her gaze. “I, um, sort of had a vision of it right after the War. But you were busy with establishing the peace and stuff, so I figured I should wait to tell you until things calmed down...”

“You had a vision. That someone’s at the Eastern Air Temple.”

Aang nodded, showing rare unease.

“Couldn’t it have been somewhere more convenient? Like, say, anywhere that’s _not_ at the top of a mountain range?”

“Location is pretty important for this sort of thing.”

“Why is the Eastern Air Temple an important location, then?”

Aang looked down. “When I try to explain spiritual stuff to you, you get mad at me.”

Azula scoffed. “Whatever. What do you mean when you say they’ll help me with being the Avatar?”

“Do you remember what happened to you at the South Pole right before you started airbending, and at the North Pole at the end of the battle there?”

Azula nodded slowly. Technically she didn’t actually _remember_ them, but after the North Pole incident she had received a detailed report from Kalu and the others, and Iroh had told her about the South Pole incident when they met to plan the final invasion of the Fire Nation. She had asked Aang, Roku, and Hatsuna about it, but at the time they all feigned ignorance.

“The person at the Eastern Air Temple should be able to teach you how to consciously control that,” Aang said.

Now _that_ got her attention. “Are you sure?” she asked, unable to hide her excitement. If she could _control_ what she did at the North Pole...

Aang somehow managed an even wider grin than any she had seen thus far. “I’m not sure of anything—”

“Are you _sure_?”

“As sure as I am that I exist.”

Azula sighed, but she also smiled. “I suppose that’s all I can ask for.”

* * *

Azula spent the last hour of her three-hour climb combing through her memories for a way to kill spirits. She couldn’t think of anything, then realized that she could research in Wan Shi Tong’s library. That stupid owl had so many books, _one_ of them could surely tell her how to permanently silence a talkative, imbecilic, dead, bratty old man.

She was formulating an excuse for what non-violent use she could put such information to when she finally reached the summit. She caused a few vibrations with earthbending to get the lay of the land, then gasped. She had seen illustrations in books, back when she still had eyes, but that was no match for actually _experiencing_ the place. As she observed the three intricate structures, for the first time she felt _beauty_ while “seeing” through earthbending.

_Just how did a bunch of Air Nomad technophobe hermits make something like this?_ Azula wondered. She focused on the stone staircase that Aang had told her would lead to her mysterious helper. There was no way a non-earthbender could carve something like that. Did the Air Nomads hire some?

These and other thoughts filtered through Azula’s mind as she rested from the long climb. Eventually, when the lure of the power to destroy armies became too much, she started climbing the staircase, at the top of which (according to Aang) was an altar where her helper would be waiting.

Despite her doubts, her expectations had built to a fever pitch by the time the altar entered her sensory range. So when she didn’t sense anyone on it, she felt completely justified in shouting some particularly vicious profanity.

“Your creativity is impressive,” someone said.

For one second, Azula was utterly flabbergasted. Then she immediately went into a defensive stance. “Who’s there!?” she shouted. She _still_ didn’t sense anyone; where the hell was he?

“I am Guru Pathik,” the mysterious man answered. “I see you are the Avatar. It appears my vision has come true.”

“Where are you!?”

“Hm? I am right here.” Pathik seemed genuinely confused, so Azula managed to refrain from attacking randomly as she evaluated her options. Her thoughts were interrupted when Pathik spoke up again. “Ah, my apologies. I wasn’t aware you saw through bending. One second, please.”

Then a man suddenly appeared, sitting on the altar just as Aang had said, clear and bright as the sun. A flurry of questions jumbled up inside Azula’s mind. She picked one out. “How did you know how I see?”

“As you well know, humans do not all see the same things,” Pathik responded without hesitation. “Some see light with their eyes. You see vibrations with your bending. I see spirits. Your spirit shows me that you are the Avatar, that you see with earthbending and airbending, and much else besides.”

Azula was used to this kind of weirdness from Aang, but it was somewhat disconcerting to hear his upside-down logic in the Material World too. Then again, if this guy was going to help her master her Avatar powers, maybe that was to be expected. He was where Aang said he would be, at least, so Azula decided to give him the benefit of the doubt for now. She walked to the altar and sat down in front of him. “Alright. Who exactly are you?”

“As I said before, I am Guru Pathik. I suppose you could call me a spiritual brother to the Air Nomads.”

“But you’re not an Air Nomad yourself?”

“I am not.”

“So…where are you _from_ , then?”

“Across the sea.”

Azula couldn’t tell if he was joking. “There _is_ no across the sea.”

“If you’ve never been there, how do you know?”

It took effort for Azula to hide her irritation. “Okay. So you’re from…across the sea, and you used to be with the Air Nomads. What did you do after they were wiped out?”

“I received a vision telling me that I would aid the Avatar, so I came here.”

“…And then what?”

“I waited for the Avatar.” Pathik’s tone was utterly serene.

“For a hundred years?”

“To an enlightened one, all lengths of time are equally instantaneous.”

Azula clenched her fist, unable to hide her irritation now. This guy had done the impossible: spout even more nonsense than Aang. Maybe that’s what he meant by ‘spiritual brother to the Air Nomads.’

“So,” Azula said, deciding to change the topic from Pathik himself, “to get to the point. I’m given to understand that you can teach me how to control the full extent of my powers as the Avatar. So…how can I do that?”

“You must gain balance within yourself before you can bring balance to the world,” Pathik said, still in his preternaturally calm and measured tone.

Azula’s annoyance was leaking into her voice more and more. “That didn’t answer my question.”

“To be precise, it was the right answer to the wrong question.”

Azula clenched both her fists. _Don’t get mad, don’t get mad. If he can teach you how to destroy armies it’ll all be worth it._ “Fine. How do I gain balance within myself, then?”

“First, drink this.” Pathik set a bowl on the ground and pushed it toward Azula. She decided she should probably just go with the flow, picked up the bowl, and drank the liquid inside it.

The vilest and most disgusting potion ever concocted by mankind oozed into Azula’ throat. She spat it out as quickly as she could, threw the bowl of evil and malice away, and shouted, “Are you trying to poison me!?”

“Onion and banana juice,” Pathik responded, and Azula heard a long, loud sipping sound. She barely managed to avoid throwing up.

* * *

After enjoying a few sadistic laughs, Pathik had assigned Azula to spiritually purify herself by whatever means she preferred before embarking on his tutelage. It took a little while for Azula to remember the rituals Li and Lo had taught her all those years ago, and she probably made a number of mistakes while reenacting them, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about which order to wash her face and hands in and she couldn’t imagine the Avatar Spirit cared either.

Pathik had also told her to meditate after the rituals until he came to get her. So she did so. And continued doing so. For a long time. She was about to succumb to fatigue and rage when she finally heard Pathik’s voice again.

“Do you feel purified now?” he asked cheerfully.

“Like a diamond.”

“Good! Then come with me.” Pathik sounded happy, either not noticing or not minding Azula’s sarcasm. He started walking away, and as Azula struggled to keep up, he began talking again. “In order to master the Avatar State, you must open all the chakras.”

“What exactly is the Avatar State?”

“Hm? Your previous incarnations didn’t tell you?”

Azula cursed Aang under her breath.

Pathik said, “In the Avatar State, you channel the power and wisdom of all the previous Avatars into your body.”

Azula’s enthusiasm made a halting return. “Okay. What are chakras, then?”

“We are walking here so I can explain that.” They had arrived at some sort of pond. “The water flows through this creek much like the energy that flows through your body. Our chakras are like these pools, where the water swirls around before moving on.”

While Azula didn’t really believe him, for now she decided to play along and nodded. “What do you mean by ‘opening’ my chakras?”

“Ah. You see, in the course of life we are afflicted with certain emotions that block the chakras. If we take those away, the energy can flow through our bodies pure and clean.”

“So…” Azula said slowly, “as long as I get rid of those emotions, I can control the Avatar State?”

“Precisely.”

_Well, that sounds easy enough; I have to do that already to bend lightning,_ Azula thought.

“Eliminating emotions is far more difficult than merely controlling them,” Pathik said lightly.

It took a second for that sentence to process, but Azula jumped backward as soon as it did.

“What is it?” Pathik asked.

“Did you…did you just read my mind?” Azula had been a little afraid when she first met Pathik and couldn’t sense him. Now, she was _very_ afraid.

“As I said before, I see people’s spirits. Come along, now, no time like the present. Of course, time is an illusion anyway.”

Azula forced herself not to think as she walked haltingly behind Pathik, trying her best to ignore his ear-shattering laughter.

“And by the way, fear is one kind of emotional muck you’ll have to get rid of, so for practice, try clearing it away now.”

_The Spirit World and everything associated with it is completely irredeemable._

Guru Pathik’s laughter echoed in her mind.

* * *

**End of Chapter 3**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can probably tell, I feel Guru Pathik was a terminally underused character in the original series, and I aim to rectify this.
> 
> As you might be able to guess, each chapter in the “Enlightenment” arc will focus on one chakra. Even after writing three more chapters of this arc in my original fic, I’m not entirely sure I’ll be able to pull off all the chapters, but you never know until you try, right?
> 
> Azula’s short description of her purification ritual is taken from somewhat vague memories I have of similar rituals I performed before entering Shinto shrines when I visited Japan.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	5. Earth Kingdom Adventures

Special thanks to my old beta Lavanya Six, and my new betas Devon and Aurelia Le!

* * *

**The Right to Rule**

An _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ fanfic

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**Earth Kingdom Adventures**

* * *

While their immediate task in the Earth Kingdom was finding an earthbending sifu, the _main_ goal was to establish alliances with all the major players in preparation for a full invasion of the Fire Nation. Ozai wasn’t making much progress in conquering new territory, but the defenses on the home islands themselves were still extremely strong, so Azula needed all the help she could get. The plan was to find the blind earthbender in Gaoling, then travel up through the Earth Kingdom until reaching the North Pole, making deals with Omashu and Ba Sing Se along the way. They would have to avoid the attention of Fire Nation patrols and assassins, but with the Avatar, a master waterbender, and (hopefully soon) a master earthbender, how difficult could the journey really be?

* * *

“I am honored to host the Avatar,” the old man said.

“Though I would like to know why you’re wearing that disguise,” the girl broke in.

“If the Fire Nation learns I was here, it would not end well for either of us. So I _highly_ recommend you not tell anyone.”

“Very well,” the man said. “What would you like to discuss?”

“I want Kyoshi Island to join the war against the Fire Nation.”

Kyoshi Island was a small, semi-independent country right off the coast of the southwestern Earth Kingdom. Since it was right on their path to Gaoling, Azula and Kalu decided to go there as their first stop. The main reason was to rest and stock up on supplies, but Azula figured since they were there anyway, she might as well add them to her growing alliance. They apparently had a small but fairly highly-skilled band of warriors, led by the girl who asked the rude question, so it’s not like they were _completely_ useless.

Unfortunately, it was the girl who responded. “Do you think you could ask a little more nicely?”

Azula faced her direction and spoke in a monotone. “I want Kyoshi Island to join the war against the Fire Nation. Please.”

“You might be Kyoshi’s reincarnation, but that doesn’t mean—”

“Suki!” the old man barked.

“Whatever,” the girl said after a second. “I’m going to go train.”

She started to walk away, but then _Sokka_ spoke up. “Hey, wait! Could we have a spar?”

Azula turned toward him, incredulous. The girl Suki also sounded incredulous as she said, “You sure you want to spar with a _girl_?”

“Huh?” Sokka said. “Why does that matter?”

The room was silent for a few seconds. Kalu ended up answering. “In the Earth Kingdom mainland, only men fight in wars. She must have assumed the Southern Water Tribes are the same. We’re not, incidentally,” he added, sounding quite pleased with himself.

“Seriously? If half of them don’t even fight, no wonder they’re constantly getting their butts kicked.”

“In fairness,” Kalu said, “Earth Kingdom battle tactics rely much more on physical strength than—”

Azula cleared her throat. “As much as I would love to talk about the deficiencies of Earth Kingdom culture, could you get to the point so we can resume our negotiation?”

“Er, right,” Sokka said. “Suki. Spar?”

Suki sighed. “Sure. Why not. Follow me.” She finally left the small building, and Sokka followed her.

With the distractions gone, Azula turned back to the old man. “We’re planning on attacking the Fire Nation capital as soon as possible, though we don’t have a set date yet. Once we do, will you join?”

“We’ve been neutral since the war began...” the old man said. Azula waited patiently, face expressionless. “But I won’t turn down a request from the Avatar.”

Azula smiled. “I appreciate your cooperation.” She stood up. “If there’s nothing else, I’m going to go practice as well.”

“One thing, Avatar. Please forgive Suki. She’s still young and impetuous, but she’ll come around.”

“Don’t worry. I was once that way too.”

“Oh, you _once_ were,” Kalu whispered. “That’s a relief.”

* * *

After they left Gaoling and Azula learned the basics of “seeing” through earthbending, the next destination was Omashu. To avoid the desert, they looped back around to the west before heading north. As they did so, they came across a small, out of the way village and decided to stay there for the night. The village called itself Chin. Azula vaguely felt like she had heard that name before, but her trepidation was outweighed by her desire to sleep in a bed.

This turned out to be a mistake.

As it happened, someone recognized Azula as the Avatar despite her disguise, and the residents of the Chin village hated the Avatar for some sort of obscure reason that didn’t really make much sense. Azula also may or may not have made a crack about how they were all imbeciles. Regardless, one thing led to another and, in the end, they tried to arrest her.

Now, in ordinary circumstances, Azula would’ve been perfectly willing to work with their surely _reliable_ and _principled_ justice system in order to arrive at a conclusion amicable to all interested parties. Unfortunately there _was_ a war going on, and Sozin’s Comet wasn’t exactly going to wait. Given that this was an _extra_ ordinary circumstance, then, surely extraordinary measures were entirely appropriate.

Besides, trying to arrest the _Avatar_? Really, what were they _expecting_ her to do?

“Burning down their houses was a little much,” Naya said as they (yet again) prepared to sleep on the ground.

Azula chafed at her sifu’s accusatory tone. “We needed a distraction. I had to either burn their houses, or burn their bodies. The former is preferable, yes?”

“I still think I could’ve found out the truth if you would’ve let me,” Sokka grumbled.

“Man, it sure is a blast traveling with you guys,” Toph said. “Saving the world, one incinerated village at a time.”

“I didn’t burn down _all_ of them...”

* * *

Funny thing about the Western Earth Kingdom: there were Fire Nation soldiers there. A lot of them, in fact. The closer Azula and the others got to Omashu, the more patrols they came across—Omashu was second only to Ba Sing Se on the Fire Nation’s “to conquer” list, after all. It got to the point where they were in serious danger of the Fire Nation being able to track their location, so Azula eventually overcame her trepidation at entering another Earth Kingdom village and attempted to gather information on alternative routes to the city.

Nobody knew any, naturally. Well... _almost_...

“The Cave of Two Lovers?” Azula asked, feeling slightly dirty just by feeling the words slither out of her mouth.

“Yes,” Kalu said, amused as ever. “The titular two lovers couldn’t meet in the open because their peoples were at war, so they built a tunnel in secret. Or so they say.”

“And then they placed a curse on it,” Naya broke in.

“That if you didn’t trust in love, you’d be trapped forever,” Sokka said dramatically.

“And presumably die,” Kalu finished.

“The last thing I want is to be a contrary asshole like Azula,” Toph said, earning her a kick from said Azula, “but I got lectures by the best tutors my parents could buy, and I never heard of anything like this.”

“It’s obviously a legend,” Kalu said lightly, “so it’s not surprising only locals know of it. Or did you learn much about Earth Kingdom cultures aside from Gaoling and Ba Sing Se?”

Toph sulked. Azula grinned, happy that Kalu was pissing off someone else for once. Then she remembered their current situation. “So you’re suggesting we look for some ancient tunnel based on a legend, that may or may not also have a death curse?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“I’d rather deal with the Fire Nation.”

* * *

Long story short, it turned out the Cave of Two Lovers really did exist.

“Wow,” Toph said as she led them to it. “These tunnels are _really_ elaborate, you guys have no idea. It’s honestly a masterpiece. I could look at it for days and not get bored.”

“Mm,” Azula grunted. Toph was still much better at seismic sense than her, and she never tired of pointing it out.

“I’m not sure you understand just how amazing these are. If the two lovers really did exist, they must’ve been among the most powerful earthbenders ever—maybe even almost as good as _me_.”

“They sound like gods,” Azula deadpanned.

“I know, right? There’s this one tunnel...”

Azula sighed. It was going to be a long trip.

* * *

Few people know this, but tunnels are _dark_. Really dark. Dark enough that, apparently, only Azula and Toph could see anything without artificial illumination.

Luckily, Kalu had some torches with him. In addition, while the seismic sense discerns less detail the more widely you spread it out, it _should_ have been simple for Azula and Toph to lead the others out of the cave.

Theoretically.

“Where are you going, Hot Lips?” Toph asked. They had arrived at a fork and Azula was approaching the left side.

“Um, out of the cave.”

“That’s a dead end.”

Azula sighed and turned to face the others, giving a silent command: _Stay out of this_. “Look Toph, I know your foot is more of an earthbending master than my entire body could ever hope to become, but there is _not_ a dead end down this path.”

“Well, not _immediately_ ,” Toph said, her voice grating against Azula’s ears more and more with each word, “but all the tunnels off that path lead to walls eventually. The right one goes on for much longer.”

Now Azula was _really_ annoyed. “Stop lying. The right path just loops back here.”

“Nope. Check it again.”

“Fine. But I swear—”

… _Crap_ , she thought.

“See?” Toph said triumphantly.

“I swear to Agni, that path wasn’t always there.”

“Sure.” Toph started walking down the right path.

“Toph, stay here. We need to think about this. The tunnels might be changing.”

“That’s ridiculous. You just fail at seismic sense.”

“I told you to _stop_!” Azula shouted, bending a gust of wind at her for emphasis.

Unfortunately, not only was her gust an unconvincing argument in retrospect, it also ended up disturbing _other_ occupants of the tunnel: a huge flock of wolf-bats, to be specific. Additionally, their only combat benders were Naya, who was at a huge disadvantage underground against a crowd of enemies, and Azula and Toph, who couldn’t actually sense any of them.

As such, Azula and Toph got separated from the others during the ensuing chaos.

* * *

Now it was Azula’s turn to gloat. “I _told_ you the tunnels were changing.”

Toph grunted. “But I can’t see anything that could be causing it.”

“Is it that hard to admit you were wrong?”

“Yes it is, actually, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t press the matter.”

Azula...didn’t _snap_. But Toph’s attitude did cause her irritation to boil over. “Okay look, Rock Face—”

“That’s a horrible nickname.”

“I don’t care! Look, I was the one who rescued you from your family, remember? I think a little gratitude would be in order.”

“You didn’t _rescue_ me from anything, Hot Lips.”

Azula smiled. She could tell she had just touched a nerve. “I see, because you _wanted_ to be a porcelain doll forever.”

“I could’ve left anytime I wanted to!”

“And yet you didn’t. Why?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

Azula didn’t pause to think as the words tumbled out. “Because that life was all you knew. I showed you a different life. _That_ rescued you.”

Toph _laughed_. “Tian above, give me a break. I fought in two Earth Rumbles; you didn’t ‘show’ me anything new.”

That tripped Azula up a bit, until she thought of the _perfect_ response. “I showed you a home you could have away from your parents.”

“This is not a home!”

Azula heard something in the distance, but it didn’t matter. “And your parents’ mansion was?”

“ _Stop talking about my parents_!”

This time, Azula laughed. “You didn’t seem to mind when I was insulting them to their—”

Toph’s tackle was fast, but not fast enough. Azula rolled with it gracefully and the two fell to the ground, trading punches and kicks. After a few seconds, though, the sound Azula heard became clear: the walls were trembling. Loudly.

“Um, Hot Lips,” Toph said while disengaging. “We should probably do something.”

Now that she had the leeway to think, Azula could sense many cracks forming in the rock around and above them. “...Can we stop this tunnel from collapsing?”

Brief pause. “Not sure, actually. Maybe.”

“But probably not.”

“Yeah.”

They both stood up and ran as fast as they could.

* * *

“…Wow.”

“Yes.”

“Weird.”

“Indeed.”

Their blind run (so to speak) had somehow placed them in front of a giant rock slab blocking the entrance to a large cavern. Moving the slab, they found out that the cavern housed a tomb, and after approaching it they discovered inscriptions on the tomb.

While Toph’s parents had never bothered teaching her letters, Azula remembered, and by tracing the incisions in the rock she was able to make out the story. Neither of them said anything for a while after Azula recited the last word and they laid their hands on the final picture.

Someone had to break the silence eventually, though, and it ended up being Toph. “That was a stupid story.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah. The war only ended because Oma scared the crap out of everyone.”

“Sounds realistic to me.”

Toph snorted. “Maybe. But what kind of message is that? People will only live together if some higher power forces them to?”

“Again, sounds about right to me.”

“I’m sure, but to _normal_ people it’s kind of screwed up.”

Azula mock-bowed. “If you’re saying I’m not normal, then my profuse thanks for the compliment.”

The tension broke. The two of them laughed for a long time.

“So,” Toph said when they calmed down, “how’re we going to get out of this place?”

Azula smiled. “Well, I do have one—”

She burned her line of thought to ashes as soon as she realized its sheer stupidity. Unfortunately, she couldn’t take back her words. “Yes?” Toph asked.

“Never mind. It’s stupid.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m serious. I have no idea why I even thought of it.”

“Tian above, Azula, out with it before I sock you again.”

Azula sighed. It was looking like she would starve in these tunnels, and she’d prefer not to have Toph hounding her to her grave. “Fine.” She took a deep breath. “You remember the curse about us being trapped in this cave unless we ‘trust in love’?”

“Yeah.”

“And the end of the story said love is brightest in the dark, or some such?”

“Go on...”

“And you, um…” Azula gulped. “The picture that accompanied—”

“ _Seriously_!?”

“I told you!”

“How could you even _think_ that!?”

“I told you! I _told_ you it was stupid!”

“There are some things you just don’t say!”

The shouting continued for a few more minutes. It didn’t get any more meaningful, but it did serve as a cleansing ritual for them.

Later, though, after they had spent a few more hours futilely trying to navigate the shifting tunnels, one of them brought the subject up again.

The dirty deed was done by Toph. “So…”

“What?” Azula grumbled, exhausted.

“About what you said earlier. Your, er, stupid idea.”

Azula was too tired to engage in the obligatory cleansing ritual. “You aren’t seriously considering it, are you?”

“Well, I mean...”

“Yes?”

“We’re never going to make it out of here at this rate. So I’m thinking we might as well, um, try.”

Azula scratched at her eye socket. It was an imbecilic, horrible, disgusting, and overall bad idea. There was literally no rational reason to expect it to work.

But...

If they were going to die anyway...

Azula felt an odd constriction in her chest and said, “Fine.”

Even though she said it, neither of them actually made a move to enact it. They just continued sitting awkwardly.

“So...” Toph said, “how exactly are we going to do this?”

“W-Well,” Azula said, cursing herself for stuttering, “one of us should probably...move toward the other.”

“It’s your idea.”

“You brought it up this time.”

They eventually compromised by both moving half the distance.

“Okay. Now what?”

Azula gulped. “I guess one of us needs to find the other’s face...”

Toph wasn’t making a move, and Azula finally decided that since she was both older and the Avatar, it was probably her job to...initiate the proceedings. So tentatively at first, then harshly at second in order to wrestle her timidity to the ground and smash it in the face, she groped toward Toph’s face.

“Ow!”

“Sorry.”

“Jeez, you almost poked my eye out!”

“What a disastrous state of affairs that would be,” Azula said, sarcastic more out of reflex than anything.

“Just, just do it gently, alright? Go slow.”

Azula had no idea if Toph was even aware of the innuendo, but it caused her own heart to beat faster regardless. While attempting to calm herself down, Azula reached toward Toph’s face again, aiming for a sort of happy medium speed. She groped around until her hand rested on what seemed to be Toph’s nose.

 _Stage two of the operation is complete_ , she thought. Her heart somehow managed to beat even faster. “Now just sit still, I guess, and I’ll position myself correctly...” Azula removed her hand and changed position until she was sitting directly opposite Toph.

Now all that was left was the action itself.

Azula gulped again. Her breathing was getting a bit ragged. She tried to ignore it. “We’re in position,” she said, voice far more timid than it had any right to be. “We should probably both move at the same time.”

“Okay. Sure.”

“...Count of three?”

“Sounds good.”

Azula’s heart was pounding in her ears, and she was sweating far more than a firebender ever should. But it was too late to back out now. “Alright then. One…

“Two…

“Three!”

Their foreheads banged together. Hard.

The two of them lay on the ground groaning, Azula feeling not a small amount of pain. Soon the pain went away, but Azula continued to groan so that they wouldn’t have to talk or try again.

“That was not the most well-thought-out of plans,” Toph commented.

 _This could be a fortuitous circumstance_ , Azula reflected. After all, their failure could serve as the perfect excuse for giving up on this disgusting, awful, not at all good idea. All she had to do was laugh, and then Toph would laugh, and then they could pretend to forget the whole thing.

Yet she couldn’t bring herself to laugh.

So it was that a few minutes later they found themselves sitting across from each other once more. They agreed that one of them should take the lead this time. And since Azula was both older and the Avatar...

She rested her hands on Toph’s cheeks. Toph’s skin was rough and chafed Azula’s palms.

She leaned forward, feeling Toph’s breath on her face. It was damp and moldy.

Her heart was beating so fast it obscured all her senses. She didn’t think of anything as she brought her head down.

Toph’s lips were...moist.

Azula slowly moved her head and hands away, not sure what she was or should be feeling.

The two of them were saved from having to talk when the tunnels around them suddenly started rumbling. They stumbled to their feet and started running, but it was too late. The rumbling got more and more severe—

And then she sensed it. Two enormous beasts that caused earthquakes with each step of their four giant legs.

Azula smiled grimly. _Here I thought I was going to starve to death, but it turns out I’ll get eaten_ _instead_ _._ She prepared to make a desperate last stand.

Then Toph shouted, “Wait!”

“What?”

“I think I know these guys!” Toph sounded more delighted than Azula had ever heard her.

“You...huh?”

“Yeah, I’m sure of it! They’re my old earthbending sifus!”

“... _What_!?”

* * *

“Welcome out of the cave, little Avatar.” Kalu was cheerful as always.

Azula grunted.

“How’d you get those badgermoles to take you out?”

Toph answered. “Oh, me and them go way back. Thanks again, guys!”

The badgermoles rumbled back into the mountain. Azula begged them to take her memories with.

“So how’d you guys make it out, then?” Toph asked.

“Ooh, let me tell it!” Sokka said, then made his voice take on a pretentious, overly-dramatic flair. “There we were, lost and hungry, down to our last torch. Just as it burned down and we prepared to make peace with the spirits... _bam_! The entire ceiling lights up, a path of stars directing us home!”

“...What?”

Naya translated. “The ceiling is lined with crystals that light up in the dark. They led us out of the cave.”

The implications became clear to Azula quickly. She smacked herself in the head.

“ _That’s_ what ‘love is brightest in the dark’ means!?”

* * *

When Azula left Omashu, she was convinced nothing else she encountered would be as irritating as King Bumi’s tests. Leave it to the Spirit World to prove her wrong.

“I know you’re upset, Hei Bai, and you should be,” Aang said, patting the giant black and white monster on its leg. The creature roared, yet didn’t move. “But new life always grows from the ashes of the old. Your forest is no exception.” He gestured at Azula, who suppressed a sigh and held out the acorn. (She didn’t know why the acorn came with her when she went to the Spirit World, but didn’t bother to ask.)

Hei Bai approached, took the acorn, _shrank_ to a quarter of its size, then _licked_ Azula (it was frankly a miracle she managed to avoid shuddering) before lumbering off.

“There, see?” Aang said, grinning as usual. “Not so hard. Try by yourself next time, okay?”

Azula touched her face, then moved her hand, idly observing the trail of saliva it left in its wake.

* * *

Luckily for Azula’s sanity, nothing else particularly interesting occurred as they skirted the Great Divide and crossed the remainder of the way to Ba Sing Se. Unless you counted Toph gloating for hours about how she singlehandedly got them tickets to the ferry.

At least she never brought up what happened in that dumb cave.

* * *

“So?” Otori asked.

“Two guards at the entrance to the tent. Three more posted on the shortest path to it.”

“Alright, easy enough.” Otori crouched, pulled a knife from her belt, and started twirling it. “You take them out. I sneak into the tent. Cut the officer’s throat. We get six hundred gold.”

“Wait,” Mongke broke in. “You have to kill them silently, Jun.”

Jun was lying down on his stomach, peering out of the trees at the Earth Kingdom camp below them. He turned his head around and stared directly at Mongke. His tattooed face was expressionless as always, but Mongke still felt a slight chill of fear.

He was the first sibling Otori recruited, her older brother. Mongke had had to call in all the favors Shinu owed him to get the stodgy colonel to agree to let the star of his beloved Yuyan Archers go. Jun himself required almost no convincing, oddly enough. Otori’s explanation was, _“He doesn’t show it, but Jun’s a softy at heart. He wants to make sure his_ _little sister_ _is safe. Isn’t that sweet?”_

Back in the present, Jun said in a monotone, “All I have to do is shoot them in the throat, and they’ll die instantly. Do you have a problem with that, Colonel?”

Mongke made a placating gesture. “Of course not. Just making sure.”

Otori laughed and slapped Mongke’s shoulder. “Give the old man a break, Jun. He’s not used to _competence_. Right?” She flashed him her ‘pleasant’ grin, and Mongke did his best to laugh in a relaxed manner. Jun said nothing and went back to looking at the camp.

“Anyway,” Otori said, now with knives in both hands, “you stay, old man. You’ll just make noise. Also, you only get a hundred gold.”

“Wait—” but she was already stalking off. He looked at Jun, but the man was silent as he took out his bow, and Mongke couldn’t do anything but watch as he strung it, notched an arrow, concentrated, and loosed it. Then, almost faster than Mongke could see, he loosed another, and another, and then two more.

“...Well?” Mongke asked, but Jun was already de-stringing his bow. When done he sat up, leaned against a tree, placed the bow frame on his lap, and closed his eyes. Mongke stared at him in bafflement for a few seconds, then looked at the camp. Squinting, he could barely make out Otori’s shadowy figure as it entered the officer’s tent. He held his breath until he saw the figure exit the tent, then let it out in relief.

“Do you like her?” Jun asked.

Mongke’s head whirled around in shock. Jun’s eyes were still closed, his face still expressionless. “...What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I...” Mongke gulped. He remembered the night he met Otori, the feel of her knife against his neck. “It’s complicated.”

“You wouldn’t be the first, or the second. It didn’t end well for any of the previous ones.” Jun opened one eye and regarded Mongke almost offhandedly, his tone conveying nothing but indifference. “That’s not a threat, to be clear. I don’t care who she dates. It’s a warning. Do you understand my meaning now?”

Mongke stared at him for a long few seconds, then nodded. Jun closed his eye, and the two of them waited in silence for Otori to return.

* * *

**End of Chapter 4**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry, Azula’s exciting adventure in Omashu will be covered in detail in the next pre-war chapter (i.e., chapter 7). I know this kind of makes a fic with already screwed-up chronology have even more screwed-up chronology, but I prefer having all the “minor” adventures in one chapter rather than tacking Hei Bei onto the next one. As always, I hope you enjoyed it!


	6. Terrorists, Rebels, Revolutionaries

**Timeline Note:** The time(s) this chapter takes place will be made clear in the chapter itself.

Special thanks to my former beta Lavanya Six, and my current betas Devon and Aurelia Le!

* * *

**The Right to Rule**

An _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ fanfic

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**Terrorists, Rebels, Revolutionaries**

* * *

After killing Ozai, Azula had braced herself for the Fire Nation to revolt. Surprisingly, though, most basically shrugged and went on living their lives as normal. Apparently opposition to Ozai had actually been pretty widespread; everyone knew that the War was going badly, it’s just that nobody was willing to say so out loud. So at first, opposition to Zuko’s rule didn’t rise above a few military officers and nobles complaining about the Fire Nation’s forsaken honor while ordering another pitcher of sake.

Then came the Peace and Reconciliation Summit. Zuko’s intentions were good, as always, but the massive reparations payments he agreed to were perceived by almost everyone in the Fire Nation as a humiliating supplication. This was the origin of the Imperialist movement. It was still quite small, confined to a radical and obscure fringe, and most importantly fully infiltrated by Zhao. But Sozin’s Comet was coming and they would almost certainly use it to try _something_. Plus, since the Imperialists totally lacked any sort of central command structure, Zhao was unable to contact most of them and his information was consequently limited; even Azula had trouble counteracting an enemy whose actions she couldn’t predict.

The fundamental issue, really, was that the Fire Nation was large and the army couldn’t be _everywhere_ even if Azula trusted all of them (and she didn’t). So in the end, Zuko assigned units to the major towns and cities and told the citizens to send a distress signal immediately should something happen.

* * *

After the War they shut down On Ji’s school and sent everyone home, without even telling them when it’d start up again. She heard rumors that it was taking a long time because the new Firelord was making serious changes to the curriculum. On Ji herself didn’t really care, as she didn’t particularly enjoy going to school anyway. Besides, the Fire Nation was going through such big upheavals that she wasn’t sure she could handle being away from her family.

At least there was the Sozin’s Comet Festival to look forward to. (Well, the new government was trying to get everyone to just call it the “Comet,” but nobody really listened.) Anyway, the Sozin’s Comet Festival was only held once a century, obviously, so everyone was really excited and had spent months hard at work in preparation, On Ji included. It was fun working together with everyone, and it helped take her mind off things.

The day of the festival, she dressed up in a traditional kimono with mom’s help. Apparently other, bigger villages were having three-day festivals—and in the biggest cities, it went on for a whole week—but On Ji’s village was small enough that they could only do it for one day. She didn’t really have any good friends here, since she had spent most of her time away at school for the past few years, so she mainly idled around engaging in small talk. The decorations were pretty, at least.

As the day slowly dissolved into night, everyone eventually gathered to the town square for the firebending display. They only had one firebender in the entire village, but Sozin’s Comet gave him enough power that his displays were still extremely impressive. Everyone cheered and clapped as he formed a fiery dragon and badgermole, then made them fight. After the dragon bit the badgermole in half, they both dissolved into flame and formed the Imperial Seal to wild applause.

On Ji clapped too, though she was getting the feeling that something seemed _off_...

Then it happened.

A ring of fire erupted around the town square, trapping the entire village inside. People started screaming, and On Ji was about to join them when she was silenced by a booming shout.

“Do not fear, citizens! We only wish to open your eyes to the injustice that has gripped our great land!”

On Ji looked at the platform. The firebender was standing aside and bowing to a powerful, well-built man. He was wearing grandiose Fire Nation armor, his hair tied in an immaculate top knot, and he stared down at them with a wide, confident grin. Three others flanked him.

“My name is Ichiro Tokugawa,” the man said. “I am a General in the Fire Nation Army. Or I used to be. With a heavy heart, I must resign my post in light of the humiliations our false Firelord has inflicted upon our once-great nation.”

People started muttering and shifting around, but a few blasts of fire into the air quelled them.

“Never before has such a catastrophe scourged our soil,” the man continued, pacing back and forth and growing increasingly agitated. “Under the cover of a solar eclipse, enemies snuck into our capital and murdered Firelord Ozai, the rightful heir to Sun Spirit Amaterasu. The disinherited, traitorous, former prince Zuko was then placed on the throne. I and other patriots blanched at this blatant injustice, but we still had our honor; it was our duty to serve the Firelord, regardless of his crimes.”

General Ichiro suddenly stopped pacing and stuck his arms out wide. “However! During the entirety of his brief reign, Firelord Zuko has demonstrated over and over again that he is merely a puppet of our enemies! Know this, citizens of the Fire Nation: the Firelord cares not for our country, our honor, or our pride. All he cares about is pleasing the masters who installed him on his blood-drenched throne—the Earth King, the Water Tribe savages, and above all, the ultimate traitor to our nation, the Avatar!

“Firelord Zuko may share Amaterasu’s blood, but he clearly does not share Her ideals. He may have been the firstborn son of Firelord Ozai, but he clearly did not inherit the divine right to rule! It pains me to say this, fellow citizens, but if we continue to obey this false Firelord, we will face nothing but decay and ruin. We have no choice but to take our country _back_ from the usurpers who stole it from us!

“Therefore!” Reaching a crescendo, General Ichiro walked to the center of the stage, and his followers launched fireballs into the sky with each new sentence he spoke. “I hereby announce the formation of the Children of the Phoenix! Our holy mission is to purge the traitors intent on driving us to destruction and return our government to where it belongs: the Fire Nation people ourselves! The right to rule belongs to those best able and most willing to lead our nation to the glorious future which is its destiny!”

With a shout, all five of them thrust their hands up, and the stream of fire from their fists formed a giant phoenix, big as the entire town. It opened its mouth and spat out a burst of flame with such strength it sounded like a roar.

“You will hear more from us soon, but for now, I bid you all farewell!”

With a salute and one final shout, they filled the entire town square with thick smoke. When the smoke cleared and On Ji finished coughing, they were already gone.

* * *

“Please explain to me how this happened,” Azula said, tapping her fingers against the table.

Zhao cleared his throat. “As I told you before, Avatar, the Imperialists aren’t—”

“Organized yet, I know,” Azula cut him off. “But Ichiro isn’t some country bumpkin with delusions of grandeur. He’s a General, or used to be. Why didn’t you know about him?”

“I apologize, but—”

“I’m not asking for _apologies_ , Zhao. I’m asking for _explanations_.”

“I have none.”

Azula sighed, and caught her hand right before it started scratching her eye socket. She used it to rub the bridge of her nose instead. “Of all the people who pulled a stunt yesterday, Ichiro is by far the most influential. Zuko doesn’t want to kill him because he hasn’t technically broken any major laws yet.” _Of course, if Zuko had implemented the sedition laws like I_ told _him to, this wouldn’t be a problem_ , Azula thought bitterly. “So I want you to bring Ichiro the group _you_ lead and put it under his control.”

“You want to _increase_ his power, Avatar?”

“It won’t give him the power to launch an open insurrection, and he’s already capable of assassinating Zuko. Having a mole in his organization more than outweighs the potential risk.”

A short pause, then Zhao said, “Understood. You are indeed correct, sir.”

Azula leaned back in her chair. Zhao put on a good pose of submission, to be sure, but he still believed he was smarter than her. She remembered that the invasion of the North Pole had been _his_ idea, not Ozai’s, and she was always concerned he might decide to engage in another unauthorized action with similarly disastrous results. The Imperialists wouldn’t trust any of her more reliable servants, though, so she didn’t have much choice. “Anyway, for now, do your best to get proof that Ichiro’s planning on actually killing people or engaging in any other explicitly illegal action. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

Azula drew a small file from her pocket and started to clean her nails absently.

“Am I dismissed, Avatar?”

“Actually, Zhao, I have one more question for you,” she said lightly.

“What is it?”

“What’s your honest opinion on Ichiro’s speech?”

One minute stretched on, then a second. Finally, Zhao said, “I understand where he’s coming from. I know the taste of defeat and humiliation very well. And I won’t deny I privately disagree with many things Firelord Zuko has done. However, _he_ has Amaterasu’s blood and the divine right to rule. Ichiro does not. Ichiro’s duty is to obey him, and breaking that duty is far more dishonorable and reprehensible than anything the Firelord has done.”

Azula finished cleaning her nails and put the file away. “The divine right to rule, huh?”

“Avatar?”

“It’s nothing. Make sure to send monthly reports to Zuko. Dismissed.”

“Understood.”

Footsteps and the slam of a door indicated Zhao had left.

Azula remained for a while, troubled by a nagging thought she couldn’t name.

* * *

Eight years passed. While there were many troubling signs, nothing particularly destabilizing occurred, so Azula’s immediate problems were limited to Jet and Ichiro. With the colonies’ new anti-terrorist defense protections deterring Jet, and the Fire Nation’s sedition laws isolating Ichiro, neither of them had made much progress in years. It appeared that everything was okay for now.

“How’d Long Feng’s negotiation with the peasants go?” Toph asked.

Of course, appearances can be deceiving. The world never tired of inventing new problems for Azula to solve.

“I’ve never been more tempted to kill him in my life,” Azula grumbled.

Zenmetsu groaned impatiently. She didn’t like Ba Sing Se very much; Azula figured she felt trapped inside the narrow streets.

Toph said, “You mean he refused to lower their taxes? I’m shocked!”

“You’d think he has dragons to feed, he wants rice so much.”

“Ehh, that’s just what people do. When you have power, all you want is more power.”

“Yes, well. Even if we set aside the thousands of starving peasants, some provinces are already grumbling about seceding. Long Feng is quickly running out of allies. If he doesn’t get his act together soon—”

“Azula,” Toph interrupted.

“ _What_?”

“You smell that?”

Toph sounded genuinely worried, so Azula paid attention to her own sense of smell. It wasn’t hard to identify.

“Smoke.”

After a quick apology to Zenmetsu and an even quicker dash, Azula and Toph found out the details. Good news: the fire was limited to one building. Bad news: it was a tax collectors’ office. Worst news: scrolls near the building identified one ‘Shen’s Revolutionary Army’ as the perpetrators.

“At least they’re transparent about their motives,” Toph observed.

Azula snorted. _Zuko is losing support_ _by the_ _day_ _, the Southern Water Tribes are a tinderbox waiting to explode at each other, and now the Earth Kingdom is falling apart at the seams._ She had never appreciated Arnook and Yue more.

* * *

Jet mass-murdered Fire Nation civilians and Ichiro wanted to overthrow the government and start another war—Azula had no mercy for them. The peasants’ “Revolutionary Army,” on the other hand, only arose in the first place because Long Feng was bleeding his subjects dry. Azula wasn’t going to massacre starving peasants for the Grand Secretariat, so she decided to let the issue fester in order to force Long Feng’s hand. This was a mistake; the conflict steadily escalated, as the “revolutionaries” launched bigger and bigger attacks while Long Feng responded with increasingly harsh crackdowns. While this did accelerate the growth of the seeds she had planted in the Dai Li, it also threatened to erupt into a full-fledged revolt. So Azula finally got over herself and declared publicly that she’d meet with the peasant leaders to negotiate a settlement.

This then led to the next issue: the peasants didn’t really _have_ leaders, presumably because the universe enjoyed seeing Azula suffer. So she got to meet underground (for secrecy) with over a hundred angry, dirty, foul-smelling, illiterate dregs of society.

“The Grand Secretariat has stolen the throne from its rightful owner! He must step down and let Earth King Kuei take his rightful place!”

The long cycle of terrorism/retaliation/retrenchment had hardly helped moderate them, naturally.

“The only proper fate for that bastard Long Feng is the Stocks!” The Stocks were Ba Sing Se’s particular brand of brutal execution: earthbend someone’s feet to a ceiling, meld a huge slab of rock to their hands, and let them hang until they die.

“You are all forgetting Avatar Shen’s teachings! This happened because we let idiots claim to be rulers just ‘cause their father was. If we don’t kill them all and rule ourselves, the cycle will only repeat!”

“Look at me, Avatar. I’m nothing but bones. If I have to send Long Feng even one more grain of rice...”

“All we want is to feed our children! Is that too much to ask!?”

And so on, for five hours. The peasants all agreed that Long Feng was bad, but that was about it. She never got anything approaching a coherent list of demands.

It’s not that she couldn’t understand where they were coming from. If someone were taking all _her_ food away, she’d be pissed too. But it doesn’t matter who’s right if you can’t _win_ , and they were in no shape to win against Long Feng’s highly organized paramilitary. Unless she did something, this would end either in brutal suppression or anarchic revolt.

Toph must have noticed Azula’s bad mood, as she spoke with a rare (albeit barely-detectable) trepidation.

“I have some news.”

Azula sighed. _Oh good, I was hoping this would get even worse._ _Maybe Long Feng declared war on the North?_ “What is it?”

“Jet has announced he unconditionally supports the revolutionary army.”

Azula smacked herself in the forehead.

“Oh, and he also called for the execution of, quote, the Fire Nation toady that dares to call himself the Grand Secretariat of Ba Sing Se, unquote.”

Azula had to laugh at that one. If there was one thing Long Feng _wasn’t_ …

Suddenly, she felt something like a flash of inspiration.

“Azula?” Toph asked, with slightly more trepidation.

“I have an idea.”

* * *

Azula rarely held personal meetings with Zhao anymore, as a precautionary measure. But with both the Earth Kingdom and the Southern Water Tribes’ internal problems growing worse, it was too dangerous to let the Children of the Phoenix run around unopposed. If nothing else, nobody would accept her as the Avatar if she wasn’t _competent_. Besides, since she was already setting up a high-risk, high-reward plan to deal with Jet, she might as well go ahead with the even _more_ high-risk, high-reward plan to deal with Ichiro she had been working on for years.

The first step of that plan was convincing Zhao to do his part.

“You want me to... _frame_ Ichiro?”

“That is the gist of what I said, but thank you for summarizing it for me.”

“I’m just confused, Avatar,” Zhao said, barreling through Azula’s sarcasm. “What is this supposed to accomplish?”

“There will always be Imperialists,” Azula said. “But there won’t always be leaders as charismatic and intelligent as Ichiro. We need to find a justification for eliminating him, and ideally discredit him and his movement at the same time. This is the most efficient solution.”

“I understand that framing him as a spy would make him lose followers, but...”

“He kicked all this off with a big, dramatic display. To win back his followers, he’ll do something at least as dramatic,” Azula said meaningfully.

Zhao gasped. “You aren’t saying—”

“I _did_ say this was high-risk, high-reward, Zhao. This is not an ideal plan, to be sure, and we cannot fully control the outcome. However, you can’t clean up the residue of a century-long war with sunshine and flowers. _Someone_ needs to stop the world from disintegrating and I don’t see any other volunteers. Understand?”

“Yes, sir!” Zhao’s excitement confirmed that Azula had made the right choice in recruiting him.

* * *

Jet smiled. For the first time in a _very_ long time, things were looking up.

Ever since he flooded that occupied village—which caused Pipsqueak and The Duke to leave, since apparently they didn’t have what it took to be Freedom Fighters—nothing he did seemed to work out. After that incident, the Fire Nation sent wave after wave of raiding parties to find and kill him. He was able to take advantage of his superior knowledge of the terrain and support from Earth Kingdom villagers, but...

“ _What are you doing, Sneers?”_

_Sneers looked back, an unreadable expression on his face. “This time is different, Jet. I’m sure you know. If someone doesn’t stop them here, they’ll kill us all.”_

“ _What are you talking about!?” Smellerbee yelled. “You can’t know that!”_

“ _She’s right,” Jet said. “There’s got to be another way!”_

“ _Such as_ _?”_

“ _Well—” Jet tried to think, but his mind was clogged with an emotion he couldn’t name._

_The muscles in Sneers’s face relaxed. “You’re the smartest guy I’ve ever known, Jet. You knew I was just using you for revenge, but you accepted me anyway. So…” he looked down. “Thanks.”_

_Without another word, Sneers turned around and ran toward the Fire Nation troops._

“ _Sneers!” Smellerbee screamed. “Wai—”_

“ _Come on,” Jet said roughly. “We’re going.”_

_Smellerbee looked at him in astonishment. “You’re not—”_

“ _We have no choice.”_

_That was the last day he allowed himself to cry._

Jet shook his head until his neck hurt. What use was it remembering that now? Now, when he was about to finally advance his goals? After so much time and so many sacr—

“ _I never told you,” Smellerbee said weakly, pausing frequently to pant or groan in pain, “why I joined the Freedom Fighters, did I?”_

 _Jet shook his head numbly. He couldn’t help glancing at her shoulder, where she had gotten shot with a_ _Fire Nation arrow_ _. It got infected, and there was nothing they could do._

 _Smellerbee smiled faintly. Her skin was very pale. “_ _Everyone else’s family was killed or village destroyed. The War touched me, too, but...nothing as serious as everyone else. I just...I liked feeling_ _like_ _I was accomplishing something. And...I liked feeling like I belonged._

“ _Don’t worry, Jet._ _I’m sure it’ll turn out okay...eventually...”_

Jet punched the ground hard enough to break his skin. These memories were useless now. After so many years, there was finally a movement of Earth Kingdom citizens not under the control of that Avatar witch. They were going to kick out the traitor Long Feng and replace him with someone who would give the Fire Nation what they deserved. So why...

“ _I hate you!” Jet screamed and slammed the door to his house. He stalked out of the village, fuming. How_ dare _they sabotage his application?_ _He had to go_ _to Ba Sing Se_ _for_ _school_ _so he could_ _escape this worthless town and_ accomplish _something. But all his parents wanted was for him to stay behind and farm._ Screw them _._

_After some hours spent hunting and practicing his hook-swords in the forest, Jet had gotten a handle on his anger. While he was still really pissed, he figured he wasn’t out of options yet. He could still apply next year, after all, and in the meantime he could talk with his parents and…_

_His mind ground to a halt as he smelled smoke. He rushed to his village, but he was too late. It was ablaze. His parents, his friends...people he loved, people he hated...all of it was gone._

_One man was standing there. A Fire Nation soldier. He turned to Jet and grinned._

Jet screamed to stop the tears that had almost leaked into his eyes. He took several deep breaths to steady himself, ignoring the glances he got from the Freedom Fighters he had brought along with him. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to remind himself why he was fighting, he told himself. It would get him into the proper mindset for the big meeting.

He wished Longshot was here, but he had told his last friend to wait behind at headquarters. Someone needed to guard the home front while Jet formed the alliance that would defeat the Fire Nation once and for all.

“Shen’s Revolutionary Army” had set up _their_ headquarters underground and moved it every week (the benefits of having a number of earthbenders). After Jet presented the seal of their new leader, he and the others were led inside, and then he was taken by himself to meet with Fong.

Before Fong managed to obtain leadership over the peasant group, their “revolution” had been a total mess. But Fong had been a General in the Earth Kingdom Army (before resigning his position to join the peasants), plus his family was from Ba Sing Se’s Lower Ring, which gave him the gravitas and trust necessary to win broad support. While Fong’s takeover of the group did drive some of them away, it was also what made Jet’s negotiation today possible.

He went through his prepared speech over again in his mind. _With your numbers added to my years of experience in guer_ _r_ _illa fighting, we will be able to—_

When he entered the chamber, the earthen door slammed shut behind him.

And Fong wasn’t alone.

Jet’s mouth and eyes widened in shock. “What’s the Avatar doing here!?”

Before his shock wore off the Avatar stomped her foot and the ground beneath Jet’s feet wrapped up, surrounding his body and immobilizing him.

There was nothing he could do.

Again.

Jet looked at Fong in horror. Fong shrugged his shoulders apologetically. “Sorry, Jet. I sympathize with you, really, but I only got this position through the Avatar’s help. When she told me about her plan...”

“Later today, Long Feng’s food tester will put poison in his meal,” the Avatar broke in. “I’ve been working to get the Dai Li’s loyalty for years, but Long Feng letting this rebellion get out of control finally convinced enough of them. Their new leader, like Fong here, will owe me for his position. So when the two of them negotiate a settlement...”

Jet had felt like he was drowning, but at those words he experienced a flash of anger and grasped onto it with desperation. “What kind of negotiation is that!? It’ll all just be play-acting, orchestrated by you!”

The Avatar shrugged, not at all apologetically. “The only way to ensure an agreement that benefits the greater good is to limit the negotiation to one person.”

Jet screamed and flailed inside his earthen prison, trying to find some way to break it.

The Avatar sighed. “Well, my gratitude for fulfilling your end of the bargain, Fong. His followers have been captured too, correct?”

“That is correct, Avatar,” Fong said. Jet cursed him for his barely-concealed deference.

“A public execution is unwise for this one, most likely. I’ll finish off the terrorist here.”

“I’m not a terrorist!” Jet screamed.

He didn’t care about anything anymore, he realized. He didn’t even really care much that he was about to die. But he was _not_ going to let her dishonor the memory of his friends.

“My comrades and I are _not_ terrorists,” he said, voice low, tears streaming from his eyes. “It was _your_ nation that invaded us, stole our land, killed our mothers and children. It was _you_ who let them keep what they stole and refused to make them _pay_ for all the suffering they inflicted. Self-defense and righteous retribution are _not_ terrorism, you witch from the eighteen hells.”

Wordlessly, the Avatar stuck her hand inside a pouch at her waist and drew out a stream of water that she bent into a blade of ice. “It’s interesting to finally meet you,” she said. “I understand a few things now, I think. Peace gives you nothing, so war is all you have left. Just like for these peasants, the violent chaos of revolution is better than a peace that would result only in misery and death. The difference is, they’d be satisfied with just some food on their tables. The only peace you’re willing to accept is the destruction of the Fire Nation.”

“You’d deserve it.”

The Avatar smiled. “Perhaps. Ozai was a terrorist, you’re right about that. But so are you.”

“Don’t you _dare_ compare me to Ozai!”

“Why not? I compare myself to him every day.” The Avatar swung her ice sword. “No more debate. Do you have any last words?”

Jet opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his head.

“As you wish.”

He kept his eyes open until the last second.

* * *

“Is it true that your sister’s come up with some new plan to wipe out the Imperialists?”

Zuko flinched involuntary. It was never fun to discuss Azula with Mai; that’s why he hadn’t told her about Azula’s plan. To her credit, she knew this, so his wife never brought up the subject unless it was critically important. Plus it was usually in the afterglow of their nightly play, making it less likely to result in a shouting match.

“Yeah. Zhao’s supposed to plant evidence framing Ichiro for being a spy.”

“Wouldn’t that put Zhao under suspicion, too?” Mai asked lazily.

“He’s not going to discover the evidence or take sides in the ensuing argument.”

“Ah.”

Zuko cleared his throat. “The plan definitely has its risks, but it should be able to force Ichiro into the open.”

“Mm.” They cuddled each other in silence for a while, enjoying the time they shared alone together. However, Mai seemed to be somewhat distracted. Just as he was about to ask if something was wrong, she said, “I still think you should just let me stick a knife in his back.”

Zuko laughed bitterly. “Even if Zhao could tell us his location—”

“Yes, I know, it might backfire and give the Imperialists even more support.” Mai sighed long and deep. “Plus, you’d feel bad. Idiot.”

“You know me too well,” Zuko murmured, then was dismayed when Mai wriggled out of bed. “Where are you going?”

“I’m wide awake. I’m going to do some knife practice”

“You sure?”

Mai grunted in a way that served to say ‘Yes,’ with a small helping of ‘You idiot.’ Zuko smiled in spite of himself.

“I love you,” he said.

This time, her grunt had more than a small helping of ‘You idiot.’

After she left, Zuko sighed deeply and sprawled out on his bed. He wasn’t that tired either, to be honest, but he didn’t feel like getting up. Even after eight years, he wasn’t used to being Firelord. He knew he was too easily influenced by others; Azula, at least, felt the need to point that out to him at every opportunity. But it wasn’t a tendency he could just will away. And honestly, he’d much rather spend more time with Azaka and Izumi. Azaka in particular was getting a little distant—

An explosion rocked the room. Large chunks of ceiling crashed into the floor.

Zuko’s reflexes were badly atrophied from lack of practice, but he did manage to dash off his bed quickly. That saved him from an arrow through the chest, but he couldn’t think of what to do _next_. If he stopped crouching by the bed, the assassins would have a clear shot.

As he desperately tried to clamp down on his growing panic, he felt a surge of heat. The assassins had set his bed on fire.

 _That’s not good_.

Zuko was about to make a mad dash to the door when two arrows crashed onto the marble floor in front of him, disabusing him of that notion.

It took all he had to stop himself from sinking entirely into despair. The last time he had been alone in the face of lethal danger had been almost a decade ago, when he was hunting Azula in the South Pole. And back then, he didn’t have a reason to live.

Which was why it would be impossible to describe in words the relief he felt when he saw Mai’s figure in the doorway. She gestured and he ran for her, noticing out of the corner of his eye that she blocked all the arrows shot at him with her knives. When he reached her, he saw that she was hugging Azaka to her back. Tears were streaming down his daughter’s cheeks, mixing with blood from an open wound.

“Why—”

“No time. We’re going outside _now_.”

“Outside?”

No sooner did he ask the stupid question than Mai grabbed his hand and jumped out the nearest glass window with a _crash_ , forcing Zuko to desperately use firebending to give the three of them something like a soft landing from their fall.

“What was that for!” shouted a panting and bleeding Zuko when he finally managed to catch his breath, Azaka’s screaming filling his ears.

A giant wall of earth rose in front of them, blocking a lance of fire just in time.

“That,” said a voice Zuko hadn’t heard in years.

Zuko turned around and there was Toph, looking even more like she had been carved out of a mountain. “Stop gaping,” she said, “and find someplace to hide. We’ll take it from here.”

“What do you—”

This time Zuko was answered by a massive gust of wind, and looking around, he saw something he hadn’t seen in almost a decade.

His sister, with blinding white light shining out through her blindfold.

He needed little more motivation to flee.

* * *

Azula and Mai didn’t get along anymore. Or maybe they never really did. Despite that, they both still agreed on the need to avoid unproductive conflicts between those on the same side. Besides, neither of them were exactly the emotional type.

Which is not to say Azula was particularly surprised at the anger and disgust in her former friend’s voice after Azula had taken care of Ichiro and his co-conspirators.

“You manipulated Ichiro into trying to kidnap Azaka and assassinate Zuko!” she shouted, right there in the open, in front of all three people in question (though at least Ichiro was unconscious).

There were many reasonable ways to proceed. Both Azula and Mai were high-strung and exhausted from the night’s events, true, but Azula probably could’ve defused the situation if the put in the effort. She was also mindful of Azaka’s presence, given all the work she had done to establish a good relationship between them. But right after leaving the Avatar State, thinking was more difficult than running through a fetid swamp. “We both know it was high time to draw Ichiro out into the open,” she said.

“And so your brilliant idea was to manipulate him into trying to kill the Firelord and kidnap his daughter, is that it?”

“That’s it precisely.”

“And you didn’t feel the need to tell either me or Zuko this _why_?”

This was going to be what the conversation, and likely their entire future relationship, turned on. Somewhere within her, Azula heard a voice: _You can reduce the damage if you really want to…_ But when she spoke, that voice was overruled. “Come now, Mai, I’m sure you can figure that out by yourself.”

“You knew I would never allow it if I had known,” Mai said, disgust replaced with hatred. “This way, you left me with little choice but to go along with your plan.”

“Very good.”

“And if I hadn’t made it to Azaka in time? If Zuko hadn’t reacted in time?”

Azula’s excitement from the battle was starting to wear off, enabling her to finally think of some adequate responses, including:

 _I know your skills very well. I was positive you could detect the assassins and get_ _them_ _out in time for me to take over._

Or,

_Zuzu might be an idiot, but he’s also a trained soldier. On the other hand, Ichiro was never involved in stealth operations. He wasn’t going to get killed easily._

Or,

_I know it was very dangerous, and I do apologize for that. However, Ichiro was going to try to assassinate Zuko and kidnap Azaka eventually. By doing it like this, we not only force him to try before he’s ready, but we also get to catch him in the act personally._

And yet...and yet...

“Every plan has risks,” Azula said at last.

She felt the cold steel of a knife at her throat.

“Victory can never be achieved without sacrifice,” Mai whispered, and Azula recognized it as something she had told Mai herself in what now seemed like a different lifetime. “But somehow, in your plans it’s always _others_ who have to sacrifice. Must be nice being the princess, or the Avatar.”

Slowly, methodically, Azula untied the cloth wrapped around her eye sockets and took it away.

Nobody said anything for a long time after that.

* * *

“Ichiro Tokugawa. You have been found guilty of attempting to kidnap Princess Azaka and murder Firelord Zuko, and are sentenced to death by beheading. In deference to your decades of service to our nation, the Firelord is willing to commute your sentence to a life term in the Boiling Rock, as long as you repent your heinous actions and publicly admit that Firelord Zuko is the rightful ruler of the Fire Nation.”

Former General Ichiro Tokugawa laughed. “I may have lost everything else, but I still have my pride. You call _my_ actions heinous? I am not the one who betrayed his country, invaded his capital, helped kill his father, usurped his throne. Descendant of Amaterasu or no, Zuko deserves no one’s loyalty. If the Firelord is not willing to act in the best interest of his people, it is the duty of those who _are_ to oppose him. All I repent is my failure.”

“Very well.”

The executioner unsheathed his sword. Ichiro’s head fell to the ground.

* * *

**End of Chapter 5**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fong was the General who tried to forcibly get Aang into the Avatar State, and On Ji was that girl Aang taught to dance, in case you didn’t memorize every piece of minutiae about this show. (I got their names from the Avatar Wiki, myself, a resource I highly recommend to any and all Avatar fanfic writers.) Hell has eighteen layers in Chinese mythology, hence the expression used by Jet. Ichiro’s last name, “Tokugawa,” is a reference I’ll let you figure out yourself.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	7. Enlightenment I

Special thanks to my previous beta Lavanya Six, and my current betas Devon and Aurelia Le!

 **Timeline Reminder:** The “Enlightenment” chapters take place approximately a year after Ozai’s death.

* * *

**The Right to Rule**

An _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ fanfic

* * *

**Chapter 6**

**Enlightenment I**

* * *

Azula’s adventure with Pathik began inside a cave.

“You have seven chakras in your body, Avatar. Each has a purpose, and each is blocked by a specific emotion. However, I must warn you: Once you begin opening your chakras, you cannot stop until all seven are cleansed.”

Azula had been trying to think of nothing for the past while to avoid Pathik’s mind-reading, but it didn’t work. She then decided that she had no choice but to ignore the fact that her mind was totally transparent to him...which also didn’t work. _Maybe talking will help._ “What happens if I stop?”

“You will become unable to enter the Avatar State again.”

“…I see.” _Well, that’s convenient._

“Indeed. Are you ready?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

“Very well. The first chakra is the Earth Chakra, located at the base of the spine.”

“Wait, these chakras have specific locations?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Pathik seemed genuinely confused.

“Well, I mean...they’re spiritual, right?”

“Not precisely. The chakras channel spiritual energy, true, but they are themselves very much physical phenomena.”

Azula opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“Any other questions?” He sounded almost smug.

“No, sorry, go ahead.”

“As I was saying. The Earth Chakra deals with survival, and is blocked by fear.”

“Hold on, sorry, I have another question.”

“What is it?”

“What exactly does that _mean_?”

“I’m not sure I understand. Which part confuses you?”

 _He’s toying with me, isn’t he?_ The most frustrating part was, he was _succeeding._ “Well. First of all, ‘deals with’ is really vague.”

“Unfortunately, human language often lacks the capacity to talk accurately about important yet esoteric subjects.”

 _Oh, come on._ “That’s true, but—”

“How about this. The _purpose_ of the Earth Chakra is survival.”

“Okay, but if that’s the case, shouldn’t fear be _integral_ to it? Isn’t the entire _point_ of fear to help us survive?”

Pathik sighed. “I can see this is going to take a long time. Why don’t we start by discussing what it is that you fear?”

“But—”

“ _Do as I say, Avatar_.” For the first time, real steel entered Pathik’s voice.

“…Fine.” Azula breathed in, breathed out, and tried to think of what her fears were.

“Apologies, Avatar, but abstract concerns about politics don’t count,” Pathik said in a lecturing tone.

“Gah! I had almost forgotten you could read my mind!”

“Hmm. I’m not sure how that’s relevant.”

Azula cursed under her breath. “Look, Guru, I’m not actually scared of that much. I’m—”

“Intelligent, strong, and powerful?”

“...If you already know my answer, why bother asking?”

“If I’m not mistaken, you seem to be afraid of me, at least.”

 _He’s enjoying this, isn’t he?_ “If you insist on reading my mind, could you at least _tell_ me what it is I’m afraid of?”

“Hmm. Not a bad idea.” Pathik actually sounded serious. “Though on second thought, I have a better idea. Sit still for a second.”

Azula sensed Pathik standing up and gulped inadvertently. It hadn’t been obvious before because of how ridiculous he acted, but come to think of it, she was basically putting herself at the mercy of a madman.

 _No, that’s an exaggeration,_ she objected to herself. _Even if he can read my mind, I should be able to beat him up if necessary. He doesn’t even seem to be a bender._ Still though, as Pathik approached her, she had to force herself to breathe slowly and was fighting off an impending sense of dread as he touched her forehead with his finger.

* * *

Azula groaned as she slowly opened her eyes, feeling really weird. She was having trouble thinking, and the past few days felt like a blur.

“Wakey wakey, Princess,” a voice she hadn’t heard before said.

“Huh?” The world was slowly coming into focus, but she wasn’t able to piece together the sensations. Dark walls, torches, vague shapes, coldness at her back, some sort of dull ache...

“Although I suppose you’re not really a princess anymore,” the same voice said.

Something inside Azula snapped into place. She recognized where she was: the bunker underneath the Palace. And over there, those were prison cell bars.

She began to stand up. “Just what is—”

She couldn’t stand up. Confused, she looked down.

At first, she didn’t understand it. A second later she did, and the dull ache suddenly flipped into an intense, screeching pain.

Azula screamed. She couldn’t move her arms or legs; they were broken and tied to a chair. All she could do was thrash her torso around.

The man she hadn’t seen before just laughed.

She tired out soon, but when she stopped thrashing the pain got worse. Locking her eyes onto the man in front of her, she decided to drown out her pain with searing fury directed at her captor. “I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care. As soon as my father hears about this—”

“It seems you still don’t understand your position, former princess.” The man walked toward her slowly, and leaned down when he got close. “My name is Haka, the warden of the Dragon’s Pit. I have been ordered to keep you locked up here for the rest of your life.” He grinned from ear to ear. “By your father.”

Azula laughed. “Nice try. Why would Father—”

For some reason, Azula’s mind tripped before she completed her sentence. Haka said, “What, you don’t remember?” He laughed long and deep, then stopped suddenly. “You’re the Avatar, girl. That’s why.”

Azula snorted. “Ridic—”

Then she remembered.

She was too tired to scream again. So her body just went limp as her mind fell apart.

Haka shrugged. “I guess you remember now. There you have it.”

“I...what should I...”

Haka smiled again. It wasn’t an amused smile like last time. It was a smile worn by those who enjoy nothing more than causing pain. “So here’s the thing, Avatar. The Firelord wants to keep you alive, but he said I could have a souvenir.”

Azula’s entire world had collapsed. The pain dove into the void that used to be her mind, harsher and more unremitting than ever. She looked blankly at Haka—

And discovered a third way to block out pain.

Fear.

He reached his fire-cloaked hand toward her face and

* * *

Azula screamed.

“Avatar!” Pathik yelled. “Avatar, calm down! That’s only a vision! It isn’t real!”

“Like hell!” Azula stood up, rage consuming her. “That was no vision; I just relived the most painful moment of my life!” Stalking toward him, she grabbed the front of his shirt and yelled, “Just what are you trying to pull here, Pathik!?”

“These visions are a very important part of the chakra cleansing process. Unless you face your fears—”

“You made me relive the moment my eyes got torn out! What is _wrong_ with you!?” Azula punched him in the face—or tried to. When she expected to feel flesh, her fist met nothing but air. The cloth she was grabbing disappeared as well.

“I didn’t know your vision would lead to such a deep pain,” Pathik said from behind her. “But if one of your greatest fears is linked to that pain, it was unavoidable.”

Azula had barely listened. “What...What _are_ you?”

“I temporarily dulled your senses to allow myself to escape. I apologize.”

Maybe it was an after-effect of the...vision...but Azula wasn’t able to hold onto her anger for long. It ebbed away quickly, leaving her alone with the pain and fear. “So you can just mess with my mind however you want, then?”

“No. I can see your spirit, not read your mind; my abilities are limited. I am able to control your senses to a certain extent. I can even make you see things, to a limited extent. But I cannot modify your thoughts or your feelings.”

Images from the memory flashed across her mind. Azula chuckled bitterly. “Not much of a difference there.”

“Avatar.” If Pathik’s voice was apologetic before, it wasn’t now. “I do sympathize. But remember: What you are attempting to gain is the infinite power of the cosmos itself. That power is not something easily granted, nor can it be attained without great pain and sacrifice. I can guide you on this journey, but that is all. I cannot truly help you. The only one who can realize the power that lies within you is yourself.”

Azula didn’t speak for a long time. When she finally did, she felt pretty much resigned. “Okay. Fine. So I’ve relived my fear. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Tell me something, Avatar. What do you think ‘fear’ is?”

“Well...” Azula shrugged. “Something’s about to hurt you, so you’re afraid of it.”

“Are you only afraid of immediate pain?”

“...No...”

“Are you only afraid of things that hurt you?”

Her resignation was getting pierced by flecks of annoyance, which was infinitely better. “Maybe not. Why does it matter?”

Pathik let out a long breath. “It seems we need another example to work with.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean what I think it means.”

“I am sorry, Avatar.”

“Save your apologies, Guru. As you said, they don’t help.” Azula grit her teeth. “I guess we might as well get on with it.”

* * *

_The gong sounded, signaling the start of the Agni Kai._

Immediately Azula felt a wave of fire screaming at her. She breathed in, breathed out, and parted it easily, gathered up the remains with both hands, broke it apart, and sent at least twenty fireballs right back at him. Tremors in the ground told her that he dodged to the right, which Azula matched, avoiding his counterattack. To stop him from gaining momentum she launched her own barrage of flames, then ran away, anticipating Ozai’s advance.

For her plan to—

Her foot hit a small rock and twisted.

She had known this plan was very risky. Running backwards, deflecting the attacks of the world’s most powerful firebender, _and_ plotting out contingencies left too little room for error. One small mistake, one misplaced foot, would spell her doom.

Ozai’s foot smashed into her face and drove spikes of flame into her brain. In her last moment, Azula wondered if maybe this was what she wanted all along.

_The gong sounded, signaling the start of the Agni Kai._

Little by little, Azula could feel the pace slipping away from her, could sense her assaults turning into reactions and then into desperate countermeasures. Little by little fear started to leak out of her heart, and it threatened to overwhelm her.

Suddenly she stopped seeing Ozai through the ground, and the air currents said he was flying toward her. Her only option was to launch herself into the air as well—but she was a fraction of a second too slow. Before she got away Ozai sent a huge wave of fire at her, and her hands were too busy bending rockets of flame to block it.

At least the pain didn’t last long, as Ozai next sent a lightning bolt straight into her heart.

_The gong sounded, signaling the start of the Agni Kai._

And caught the lightning with her hand.

The pure, unbridled _chi_ energy of the lightning was like lava. With time as slow as it was, she could feel each impact as the lightning barreled its way through her arm, crashing against and destroying all in its way as it broke into her shoulder.

Then, just as Iroh had taught her, she _bent_ it, sending the searing _chi_ down into her—

Time managed to get even slower as the lightning entered her heart. She shouldn’t be surprised; she had never actually tried to redirect lightning before, after all. Prodigy or not, why was she so sure she could succeed at this the very first time?

At least time did her the favor of speeding up when the actual pain began. That way, it lasted less than a second.

_The gong sounded, signaling the start of the Agni Kai._

Ozai moved left. Azula had guessed he would move right. Her defenses were a tiny bit slow, which was enough to let Ozai burn her entire right side, which gave him the opportunity to send a bolt right into her head.

_The gong sounded, signaling the start of the Agni Kai._

Azula rocketed away. The wind currents told her that an attack was coming. She dodged, but then a fireball she had missed collided into her, knocking her out and ensuring her death.

_The gong sounded, signaling the start of the Agni Kai._

The lightning traveled faster than she had expected and sent her smoking to the ground.

_The gong sounded, signaling the start of_

* * *

This time, it wasn’t really a scream, more a very long, drawn-out groan.

“How are you, Avatar?” Pathik asked gently.

“What’s with these visions?” Azula grumbled. “This time, I saw things that never even happened.”

“Of course. As you yourself said, we fear what is _about_ to occur, not what _has_ occurred.”

“I think you owe me an answer now, Guru. Exactly how does fear block survival?”

Their cave was inside the largest and most central of the Eastern Air Temple mountains. A large rock split off from the mountain, and Azula could feel every single vibration perfectly as it tumbled down the slope and crashed into the ground below.

“Tell me, Avatar. What did you see in your most recent vision?”

Azula’s hand rose to pick at her eye sockets, but before it could get that far she grabbed it with her other hand and shoved it to the ground.

“I had a plan to kill Ozai. I saw ways it could’ve failed.”

“And if you had given into your fear of failure?”

“He’d probably still be alive. So what? This chakra is about survival, right? I would’ve survived too.”

“And whatever makes you think, Avatar, that I was talking about _life_ when I said ‘survival’?”

“…What?”

“We all have a very limited opportunity to exist on this planet. To the spirits, time is an illusion—it does not matter to them whether we live for one second or one hundred years. The chakras channel spiritual energy. So what makes you think the Earth Chakra would be concerned about your _life_?”

“What _else_ could ‘survival’ mean?”

“Tell me this. If you were to always refrain from doing what you’re afraid of, what kind of life would you live?”

“That’s...like I said, I’m not really afraid of that much.”

“Even an extraordinarily slight fear is fine.”

“Well...”

* * *

The anti-colonial terrorists didn’t even have benders, so Azula wasn’t paying perfect attention. She paid for her laziness with an arrow through her lung.

As she talked with Long Feng, Azula could tell he was displeased with her attempts to manipulate him. What she couldn’t tell, until it was too late, was that he was so displeased that he had put poison in her drink.

She knew Mai didn’t like her or her policies. She didn’t know Mai felt strongly enough to stick a knife into her throat.

You never knew what diseases you might catch wandering around the Earth Kingdom wilds. This one just happened to be deadly.

Without any earth around, Azula had to depend on air currents in the South Pole. So she couldn’t tell that she was about to step on thin ice, nor that the water beneath it was cold enough that she wouldn’t be able to pull herself out in time.

Maybe it was inevitable. Maybe she had screwed up. Whatever the case, the colonial issue had finally blown up and the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation were again at war. And Azula couldn’t help but think of it as her failure.

Iroh died peacefully in his sleep, but his death sent Azula into a depression that lasted almost a week.

She had thought, in Toph, she finally found someone resembling a true friend. But one morning, Azula awoke to find that Toph had just up and left without explanation. Maybe Azula just wasn’t cut out for friends.

* * *

“Avatar?”

“...I fear pain and death. But if I were to avoid everything with any risk of those...”

“Then?”

“I guess I’d just live by myself and grow rice all day.”

“And that would go far to ensure the survival of your life. But it would cost the survival of something else, wouldn’t it? It would kill something else of yours, something far more important.”

“...”

“It’s not enough to _control_ your fear, Avatar. That fear will still haunt you, still make you focus too much on your bodily survival. That might be good enough for a human, but it is not sufficient for the Avatar. You must _eliminate_ your fear.”

“I’m not human, then.”

“You are both human and far more than human, Avatar, as are we all. Tell me. You said that you fear pain and death.”

“Yes.”

“But what causes humans the most pain? What brings us our most acute suffering?”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“It’s alright if you don’t. I believe you still have one more vision to experience anyway.”

“What might that be?”

“Your biggest fear.”

“...I should’ve guessed.”

“Perhaps.”

* * *

Azula gulped. Breathed in, breathed out. Shuffled her feet. Then cursed herself for being such a coward and slammed the door open.

Seconds passed in silence.

“Come on in,” said a voice Azula hadn’t heard in over ten years.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Swallow.

Azula entered the small house.

It was weird. None of the things she could sense—body movements that displace air, footsteps that cause vibrations—were familiar. Only the voice conjured half-formed memories.

“You’re right on time. I’m impressed.”

Azula opened her mouth, but her voice caught in her throat.

“Go ahead, sit down. I’ll make some tea.”

Azula closed her mouth and nodded. She sat on the ground, and said nothing as she listened to her mother make tea. When she finished, she sat down opposite Azula, and the two of them drank from their respective cups.

Naturally, Mother was the one who broke the silence. “How is it?”

“It’s good,” Azula said weakly.

Minutes more passed in silence.

“So,” Azula eventually stammered out, “how’ve you, um, been?”

“As you might expect,” Mother said. There was no discernible tone in her voice.

Swallow. Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Um. How was your talk with Zuko?” Azula asked.

“I apologized to him. He apologized to me. We hugged each other and cried.”

“Oh. That’s good.”

“Indeed. He offered to move me into the palace, but I refused. He’ll visit once a month or so instead.”

“Why’d you refuse?”

“I _am_ the traitor who killed Firelord Azulon. It would cause him undue trouble if he pardoned my crime.”

Azula internally smacked herself. “Of course. Sorry.”

“That’s alright. I’ve gotten used to my life here anyway.”

“That’s good.”

“Under a certain point of view, I suppose.”

Silence stretched on for more minutes. Azula’s unusually parched throat made her finish her tea quickly, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask for more. She just mindlessly rotated the empty cup.

“So,” Azula eventually said, “some Earth Kingdom provinces are—”

“Why did you visit me?”

Azula’s thoughts slammed to a halt. “Huh?”

“Why did you visit me?” Mother repeated. Her voice still lacked any discernible tone, but somehow, it still drove nails into Azula’s head with each word. “Did you want praise? Forgiveness? Contrition? Did you want me to say ‘You’re doing a great job as Avatar, Azula’? ‘I’m sorry I thought you were a monster, it turned out I was wrong’? Just how did you expect this conversation to go?”

Azula tried to swallow, but all the saliva in her mouth was dried up. She tried to breathe, but her throat was strangled by invisible chains. “I, I didn’t…”

“Just _what_ do you want me to say? Azula?”

Azula threw her teacup across the room. It shattered with a bang. “Yes!” she shouted. “Yes, I expected you to apologize to me, to forgive me! You thought I only cared about myself, but _I_ ended the War and maintained the peace, so all those looks you gave me, everything you implied about me, what you wrote in your diary—”

“ _Are still true_.”

Azula’s words stumbled over themselves. “Are—what? Huh?”

“You might have ended the War, Azula, but we both know that was irrelevant to you. You spent over two years of your life obsessed with killing Ozai. _Your own father_. Do you expect praise for patricide, Azula?”

“I, I mean..”

“And ‘maintaining the peace,’ you say? How many Fire Nation citizens did you have killed for happening not to agree with your or Zuko’s policies? How many Earth Kingdom governors did you assassinate and replace with yes-men because they wanted to gain more independence from Ba Sing Se? Just how many Water Tribespeople are getting crushed between the gears of ‘progress’ in your efforts to _modernize_ them?”

“Those are—”

“How many refugees have you told, sorry, you can’t return to your ancestral homeland, I’m letting the Fire Nation keep the territory they stole in the War?”

“Those are all for the greater good!”

Silence for a second. Then, “Oh, I _am_ proud of you, Azula. Only twenty-four years old, yet you already sound exactly like your father.”

“ _I am not my father_!”

But even as she said it, Azula could feel the world slipping, could feel her senses fading away, could feel herself floating in an endless sea of darkness.

“You may pretend to have reformed, Azula,” Mother said, voice still lacking all tone. “You may tell yourself you’ve renounced your earlier worldview and become a good person. But we both know the truth. You were _born_ a monster, Azula, and will remain one until the day you die. And I will never apologize for telling you that.

“Now get out of my house.”

* * *

An interminable amount of time later, Azula regained her cognitive capacity.

“Have you recovered, Avatar?” Pathik asked. He sounded almost worried.

The cloth over Azula’s eye sockets was damp with sweat by now, so she took it off, tossed it onto the floor, and burned it. She figured Pathik didn’t care one way or the other. “In a manner of speaking,” she said.

“I see.”

“Now what? I’ve experienced my biggest fear, or had a vision of it, or whatever. I still don’t feel like I’m any closer to _eliminating_ my fear.”

“Try this. Do you still remember how you felt at the end of that vision, when absolute, crushing terror gripped your heart and prevented you from thinking, feeling, or doing?”

Azula scratched her eye socket. “I can’t imagine ever forgetting it.”

“Then feel it again. But this time, focus on it. Let the feeling seep into your pores, let it flood your arms and legs and head until naught but the endless void is left.”

“...And then?”

“Take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and allow it all to flow away.”

“Will that really work?”

“You never know until you try.”

Azula sighed. She was tired of arguing, tired of most everything at this point. “Alright. Whatever. Might as well.”

* * *

When Azula woke up, it felt like cramps infected her entire being.

“Did you have a good nap, Avatar?”

“Very funny.” Azula tried to stand up, but her legs collapsed under her. She cursed. It felt like she was back in the South Pole, right after Kalu had fixed her limbs the first time and she was learning how to walk again. “How long was I out for?”

“As I’ve already said, all lengths of time are equally instantaneous to the enlightened.”

“Oh right. How could I forget?”

“But I must congratulate you, Avatar. You have opened the first chakra.”

“Joy.” Azula didn’t feel any different. Well...maybe a _little_ different...but it was only a vague sense of comfort, and she wasn’t willing to credit Pathik for it. “Is opening the other chakras going to be like this?”

“You should be able to guess the answer to that question.”

Azula sighed. “The others will be worse. Of course.”

“I would offer you a chance to rest, but as I said, once you begin this process you must see it through to the end. Unless you cut yourself off from it completely, even sleep will not relax you.”

She was certainly feeling the truth of _that_ statement at the moment. “Fine. No time like the present, right?”

“Time is an illusion, Avatar.”

“Sometimes, I really want to punch you. Right in the face.”

Pathik laughed. “Faces are also illusions, Avatar.”

“...I have no idea if you’re being serious. That scares me.”

“If so, we’ll have to open your Earth Chakra again.” He laughed again.

Azula slapped herself. Right in the face.

* * *

**End of Chapter 6**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, the Enlightenment chapters are my favorite. I can do so many interesting things with them.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	8. The King of Omashu

Special thanks to my previous beta Lavanya Six, and my current betas Devon and Aurelia Le!

 **Timeline Note:** This chapter takes place in the middle of Chapter 4, after the Cave of Two Lovers but before the encounter with Hei Bai.

* * *

**The Right to Rule**

An _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ fanfic

* * *

**Chapter 7**

**The King of Omashu**

* * *

“So what kind of place is Omashu?” Sokka asked as their group of five walked the long, thin, twisting path to the city proper.

“Omashu is the second largest and second most powerful city in the Earth Kingdom,” Azula answered in a monotone, as if she was reciting a memorized speech. Which she was. “It was Ba Sing Se’s major rival before unification, and even now, while it technically submits to the capital’s authority, its king is basically autonomous. Aside from that, it is most well-known for its mail-delivery system.”

“Mail-delivery system?” Sokka and Toph said, in a skeptical and confused tone respectively.

“Apparently it’s quite efficient,” Azula deadpanned.

“While that _was_ fascinating,” Kalu said, “since we’re trying to convince King Bumi to ally with us, it’s most important to know about him as a person. Any information you can give us about that, Little Honor Student?”

Azula chose to ignore his barb. “Bumi is a distant cousin to the previous king. He took the throne after almost all the royal family was killed in battle. He tends to keep to himself, so not much is known about him.”

“I overheard Father say his guards are made up of former prisoners he freed for questionable reasons,” Toph offered.

Azula coughed. “Yes, well, there are many such rumors about him, but since he’s managed to hold off the Fire Nation’s attacks for over eighty years, I imagine they’re quite exaggerated.”

“Whatever,” Toph grumbled.

“Walk as I instructed you, Azula,” Naya commanded. “You need to practice your waterbending fundamentals as often as possible.”

Azula cursed under her breath and shifted her walking stance. Naya was a big believer in living what you learn, and kept telling her in that annoying monotone that her advances in waterbending, while objectively lightning-fast if measured by any reasonable standard, were not quite fast enough for _her_. She wasn’t wrong about practicing the fundamentals—though Azula hated the barbarian so much she’d never say that to her face—but it wasn’t exactly easy overriding more than eight years of firebending-honed muscle memory.

As they approached Omashu’s gate, Azula could sense a guard bending a rock over one of her companions. Her seismic sense wasn’t nearly as good as Toph’s yet, as Toph took great delight in reminding her, but it was more than enough to get by. “State your business!” he yelled.

“The Avatar,” she said, “here to meet with King Bumi.”

* * *

“It’s an honor to host the Avatar,” the old man said, “so to mark the occasion, I’ve had my chefs prepare premium snail-skunk meat. Very much a delicacy.”

A single bite of the “delicacy” gifted Azula with one of the foulest experiences she’d ever had the displeasure of encountering. But she kept her mask on and ate as much as she could stand. This was an important diplomatic meeting. Important diplomatic meetings always started with terrible feasts.

“Young man next to the Avatar,” Bumi said.

“Yes?” Sokka’s voice was half a squeak.

“That’s an interesting hairstyle you’ve got there.”

Azula could almost see Sokka’s chest puffing up as he said with extreme smugness, “Why, thank you. Not many people appreciate it.”

“Would you like a pony to go with your tail?”

Kalu laughed as Sokka tried desperately to convince Bumi it was a _wolf_ -tail. Azula was slightly confused, but mostly annoyed.

“Well,” Bumi said, yawning, “all these good jokes are making me tired. Guess it’s time to hit the hay.”

Okay, that was _it_. “My apologies, King Bumi, but we haven’t actually discussed anything yet.”

“Nonsense! We’ve talked about food, fashion, the best way to ward off cockroach-ants—”

“I meant the _war_ , King.” Venom was starting to leak into Azula’s tone with each word.

“Working? Are you applying for a job?”

A second passed in silence.

“We’re in serious trouble,” Sokka whispered.

“This guy is a few rocks short of an avalanche,” Toph added.

Previously, Azula had assumed his insanity was an act to make people underestimate him. Now she was inclined to agree with them.

“Any bright ideas?” she whispered. A collective silence met her. She sighed inwardly. “King Bumi,” she said, her pleading tone not entirely an act, “we need your help to defeat the Fire Nation. So—”

“Oh, is that all you wanted? Sure, no problem.”

Azula sat frozen for a second. _Is it really going to be that easy?_

“However!”

_Of course not._

“Before I lend my aid, the Avatar will have to complete three deadly challenges.”

“What?” Azula said inadvertently.

Bumi said lightly, “If the Avatar can’t defeat my tests, what hope will she have to defeat the Fire Nation?”

 _That...that makes no..._ But Azula knew it was futile. Her common sense told her to decline and get the hell out of this city and away from this asylum reject, but her stubbornness told her to stay. “Alright, I’ll take your challenges. What are they?”

“Now, now, no need to rush through life. From time to time, you should stop and smell the flowers. Or the extremely pleasant scent emanating from this delicious food.”

Azula was then treated to the sound of a very loud, disgusting snort.

“We should go,” Naya whispered.

“Agreed,” Toph added.

“We’ve come this far,” Azula said through gritted teeth. “One more day couldn’t hurt.”

“It most certainly could,” Kalu said. He somehow managed to transmit a lilting tone into his whisper.

* * *

“We have no reason to expect that man to hold up his end of the bargain,” Naya said when they had all settled down in the room Bumi gave them.

Azula scratched her eye socket. She was not thrilled about arguing when she didn’t even fully believe in her own position, but as usual Naya was giving her little choice. “This city’s suffered at the hands of the Fire Nation as much as anywhere else. He has no reason _not_ to help us.”

“But he’s totally cuckoo!” Sokka said with his usual grace.

“Hardly surprising, giving his entire family was killed,” Kalu remarked.

“If it was me,” Toph said with a puffed-up air, “that’d just make me want to tear the Fire Nation apart stone-by-stone.”

Azula coughed.

“Er, present company excluded.”

“Anyway,” Azula said, “we might as well stay the night, at least we have a roof over our heads. If his ‘challenges’ are too ridiculous we can always just leave.”

“If he lets us,” Kalu said in a strange tone.

That stopped Azula short. She internally smacked herself for not considering that possibility. “You think he’d sell us out?”

Kalu’s silence served to communicate a shrug.

“Don’t listen to him,” Sokka yawned, “Kalu’s just being weird again.”

“Even so,” Azula said, “we should probably set up a watch for tonight.”

That produced groans from Sokka and Toph (and louder groans when Azula said _she_ had to sleep the whole night to be prepared for the challenges), accompanied by Kalu’s laughter and Naya’s usual stony silence, but they acquiesced in the end.

 _Victory can’t be achieved without sacrifice, after all_ , Azula thought as she fell asleep.

* * *

Azula awoke to the sound of the room’s wall being earthbent down.

“The king is ready to see you now,” a voice behind her said. “Come with me.”

Azula tore apart her drowsiness, then realized she couldn’t hear or sense anyone else. “Where are my companions?”

“The king will release them if and when you complete your challenges.”

“What!?” Azula practically shouted, anger overriding her reason. She didn’t particularly care about any of them, but they were _hers_ , damn it. And just how did Bumi capture them without waking her up? They even had a watch. “Where are they!”

“He didn’t specify,” the guard said quickly and evenly. “Now, come with me.”

Azula controlled herself. This random guard wouldn’t be able to change anything, so attacking him would be counterproductive. Saving her rage for Bumi himself, she followed the guard outside into a hallway.

“First, Avatar,” she heard Bumi say, and prepped herself for some verbal sparring, “what do you think of my new outfit? I think it’s quite sleek and dashing, but I’d like your honest opinion.”

Azula opened her mouth to offer some cutting remark, and her mouth stayed that way without actually forming any words.

“Well?”

“...I’m _blind_.”

“Oh, right. I forgot. Sorry!”

Azula’s fingernails were cutting gashes into her palms. _Don’t kill him, don’t kill him, you still need his help._ “Why did you take my companions away?”

“Oh, I thought I would help you out by giving you an extra incentive to succeed. Don’t worry, no need for thanks. Anyway, shall we begin the first challenge?”

Silence reigned.

“What is the challenge?” Azula eventually asked.

“To be honest, I haven’t thought of one yet.”

Azula was getting so angry small flames started to lick her skin, almost like one of those ‘auras’ Ty Lee had always prattled on about. She meditated through breathing and somehow managed to will some of the rage away, one small bit at a time.

“Ah, got it!” Bumi finally said. “Okay, this is a good one. Come with me, Avatar.”

Bumi started walking away. Azula roughly shrugged off one of the guard’s attempts to lead her and followed the mad king on her own. Inside the farce the world had suddenly turned into, Azula decided the best place to begin her campaign of re-establishing control was herself.

_Is everyone in the Earth Kingdom functionally insane?_

* * *

Bumi led her to the front doors of the palace and said, “This is your first test, Avatar.”

Silence.

“...I’m _blind_.”

“Oh right. My apologies. You know of our mail-delivery system, right?”

Azula clenched her teeth. “Yes.”

“While I have complete faith in it, there is a particularly important scroll I’d like to send to the head of the guards. Would you give it to him yourself, to make sure it gets there safely?”

Azula just stood there dumbly as one of the guards put a scroll into her hand. “The first challenge is to be a _carrier hawk_?”

Bumi struck a contemplative tone. “It would be convenient to have wings, wouldn’t it?”

“That’s not—” Azula stopped herself and sighed. “Fine. Where is—”

She was interrupted by the the door getting earthbent shut.

Ten meditation breaths later, Azula decided _not_ to burn the palace down and instead went out to gather information as to where the captain of the guards was located...

...only to be told there _wasn’t_ a captain of the guards.

Joy.

Azula went back to bang on the palace’s front doors and shout, with no result. She tried to bend the door open herself, but after managing to open it a crack it immediately shut again, presumably due to earthbenders on the other side. Leaning against the wall of rock, Azula decided to work things out rationally.

In order to find Bumi and kill him, she had to enter the palace. But this entrance was blocked, and she didn’t know where any others might be, so she had to find some way to infiltrate it. A disguise would be unlikely to work, and it would be difficult to obtain one by herself anyway, so what else—

_The mail-delivery system!_

As Azula waited by one of the delivery ramps for a suitable package, she decided to practice the seismic sense Toph was teaching her. It took her some time to get into the right mindset, and she was still prone to misreads: an animal that seemed to be a squirrel-frog at first until she realized it had to be someone’s pet rat-dog; a wagon that the vibrations suggested had nine wheels; even a set of impacts she could’ve _sworn_ were those of a human before they dashed up a wall and across some rooftops. But while talent might make perfect, practice makes that perfection better, as Fa—

...well, what did it matter _who_ told her that? At any rate it was true, as Azula’s slow but sure advances in proficiency at sensing through earthbending demonstrated.

Eventually, some guy rhapsodizing about his cabbages approached the delivery guard with a wagon, asking for it to be delivered to the palace. Cabbages were good enough, and with airbending serving as a distraction Azula dove inside the wagon and hid herself among the cabbages with relatively little fuss.

As soon as the somewhat bumpy ride to the palace finished, Azula jumped out and cast out her seismic sense to look for—

“Ah, nice of you to drop in, Avatar.”

...him.

“Look,” she said, hardly bothering to put on polite airs for Bumi, “I asked around, and there _isn’t_ a captain of the guard. So you can take this letter,” she threw the scroll in his general direction, “and shove it—”

“Oh, I’ve been expecting this letter! Thank you, Avatar. You’ve passed the first challenge.”

Silence.

“You wanted me to deliver the letter...to you?”

“Didn’t I tell you that?”

“You told me to deliver it to the captain of the guard!”

“No, I said the _head_ of the guards. As the king, I have absolute authority over this city’s guard and hence am its head.”

More silence.

“Anyway,” Bumi said, clapping his hands, “we ain’t gettin’ any younger, especially me. Let’s move on to the second challenge, shall we?”

 _It would be so easy to kill him right now,_ Azula thought. _So easy._

She followed him anyway.

* * *

“This is your second challenge, Avatar.”

“I’m—”

“Yes, blind, I know. Anyway, the letter you so kindly delivered to me—”

Azula cursed under her breath.

“—contained some distressing news. Apparently, a spy has made his way into my palace!”

“Is that so,” Azula deadpanned.

“Exactly so. I’ve sent my men after him, of course, but I want to reinforce my defenses at the front door. Would you mind going there for me?”

“So...the next challenge is just to go to the front door?”

“Oh, Tian no. That wouldn’t be nearly challenging enough!”

_Of course not._

“I’m sending one of my best guards along, too. The second challenge is to beat him to the gate.”

“A race?”

“Precisely!” Bumi sounded inordinately pleased. “And it starts _now_!”

As soon as he stopped talking, Azula sensed footsteps quickly speed ahead of her. Shoving her insults inside herself for the time being, she took off after them.

She sensed a huge hole get bent into the wall ahead of her and internally smacked herself for imbecility. _Of course, this entire palace is made of rock._ The guard bent the hole closed, but Azula had taken to earthbending much quicker than both water and (especially) airbending, so it wasn’t difficult to make a passageway herself and continue on.

She didn’t close it. Bumi could do that himself.

And so the race was on. The disparity between them, however, soon became apparent. The guard she was racing against clearly knew the palace’s layout perfectly, whereas Azula wouldn’t have any idea where to go if she wasn’t following behind him. Furthermore, he was far more proficient at earthbending than she, and eyesight gave him much better information about his surroundings than Azula’s still-shaky seismic sense.

 _Agni curse you, Bumi_ , Azula thought angrily. _First you send me on a wild mouse-goose chase, now this? If I were to make a list of people whose very existence makes me doubt the divine right to rule, then…_

As Azula continued her rants, however, she slowly came to recognize her surroundings. Unless she was mistaken—and she wasn’t—they were right next to the hallway she and the others had walked down when they first arrived here. So that was one obstacle cleared.

The guard was still a problem, though; Azula was still bad at the airbending-enhanced speed Aang was trying to teach her, and at the current rate she’d never catch up—

She mentally slapped herself. _Duh._ Whipping some water out of the pouch she carried with her, she flung it at the guard while freezing it, making use of a technique Naya had taught her recently.

With the guard frozen to the wall, it was child’s play to win the race.

* * *

It was two down and one to go, but Azula wasn’t exactly thinking positive thoughts as Bumi led her to the final area. _Given how the previous two ‘challenges’ went, this one will probably involve gardening or something—_

“Your final test is a duel.”

 _...Or maybe not._ “Really?” she asked, with a fair amount of excitement.

“Indeed. And, as a special treat, you may choose your opponent.”

 _Oh, this can’t be happening,_ Azula thought giddily. _Am I finally getting lucky?_

“Point and—”

Azula immediately pointed at Bumi. “You.”

She heard a raspy laugh. “Gutsy move, Avatar. And the wrong one.”

The ground underneath Azula exploded, sending her flying backward. She used fire- and airbending to land gracefully. This was followed by a huge and violent vibration as Bumi jumped down to the ground in front of her.

“You thought I was a frail old man—”

“Actually, I knew you’re an earthbender,” Azula said, grinning.

That seemed to throw Bumi off for a bit, but he quickly recovered. “I’m not _just_ an earthbender. I am the most powerful earthbender you’ll ever meet.”

Azula’s grin grew even wider. “Oh, this is getting better and better.”

“Is it now?”

Some part of Azula knew she ought to stop talking, that she needed to avoid permanently alienating the mad king, but her mouth moved faster than her brain. “I’ve been wanting to beat you up since we met, but now you’re saying I’ll even get a good fight out of it? I haven’t been this happy in _months_.”

Luckily, Bumi just laughed. Maybe he was too far gone to know how to be properly offended. “Not a bad attitude, Avatar. Let’s see how it holds up.”

Bumi stomped his foot, and a chunk of rock rose out of the ground in front of him. Judging the angle quickly, Azula bent the rock aside before it hit her and retaliated with a series of firebending katas, putting as much rage and frustration as she could into each one.

“Typical firebender tactic, pressuring your opponent with constant attacks,” Bumi said patronizingly. “I had hoped the Avatar would be less _predictable_.”

Bumi stomped his foot and the ground beneath Azula thrust upward violently, catapulting her into the air.

“I know you see through vibrations in the ground,” Bumi crowed, “which means the sky is your weakness.”

Azula cursed. He was right; in the air, she had no idea where the next attack might come from. She rocketed diagonally down and away from Bumi with firebending, then made herself a cushion of air in advance of her landing.

Right when she should’ve landed, though, her body hit a fast-moving lump of rock instead which sent her into the air again, along with a nice helping of pain.

“You’re gonna have to be more creative than that!” Bumi yelled.

Azula gritted her teeth. Her ears still worked in the air, at least. She rocketed upward and pricked her ears for the sound of rock getting torn out of the ceiling.

 _There it is_. She bent a blast of wind to slow the rock down, then suddenly got a crazy idea for what to do with it. Positioning herself above the rock with wind and fire, she fell on top of it and fused the rock to her lower legs using earthbending. Then she bent the rock as fast as she could toward the last place she had sensed Bumi. She didn’t _need_ to see attacks coming when she had such a durable shield, after all.

Flying at high speeds toward her opponent, preparing for an attack while strategizing out future possibilities and responses to each...Azula had almost forgotten how much she enjoyed fighting.

The downside to her present tactic was that she couldn’t hear anything with the wind battering her ears, so she had no idea what was happening until she finally crashed into the ground. The rock blew to bits and she rolled off of it, using air- and firebending to land on her foot.

As soon as she sensed Bumi she sprinted toward him, drawing the water out of her pouch and bending it into an ice sword—Naya’s favorite technique, and the first advanced waterbending trick Azula had learned.

“Not bad, Avatar,” Bumi said, “but not good enough!”

His foot came down, and at the same time Azula moved her hand upward. She was quicker; the earth underneath her feet thrust upward and, aided by airbending, she flew straight at Bumi with her ice sword extended.

If something interesting had not happened at that precise moment, Azula would’ve lost the duel right then and there.

Maybe it was because Azula was so intensely focused on one single task— _get Bumi_ —that all her being, body and spirit, became one with it. Or maybe the psychological shift she underwent to ‘see’ with earthbending had already let her do this, too, and she’d just never noticed it before. For whatever reason, just as Azula was preparing to force Bumi’s surrender, she felt an almost insignificant shift in the air pressure on her skin, and it told her that something was in front of her that shouldn’t be.

Azula punched ahead instinctively and felt her fist impact a stone slab. In the millisecond before she would’ve collided with it, she used earthbending to blow it apart.

As it was she still collapsed into a near-heap, her left hand bleeding from the work she had just made it do. Now in contact with the ground again, she sensed Bumi right in front of her and immediately sent a large wave of fire forward, then spun around, spreading the inferno in all directions. The goal was to force Bumi to escape and give her some breathing room.

“An impressive show, Avatar,” she heard Bumi say from beyond the raging fires. “But I imagine it will exhaust you quickly. If so, how do you intend to counter _this_?”

As Azula went through every meditation exercise she knew in order to restore her energy, she saw a huge number of cracks form around the platform she and Bumi had been standing on before the duel. As the inferno around her died down and she recovered enough to attain normal thought and bodily processes, she saw the entire platform and the earth around it break off from the wall. A huge mass of rock, big enough to crush an entire platoon, was now flying toward her.

Firebending alone wouldn’t be able to stop it. Airbending or earthbending might, but she wasn’t nearly as proficient at those as she needed to be. So how…?

“ _You’re gonna have to be more creative than that,” Bumi yelled._

...Indeed.

Azula sat down in a perfect lotus stance, breathed in, breathed out, and meditated.

As she did, the wind pressure sensations from before came back to her. The huge mound of rock was displacing so much air that, when she tried, it was easy to pinpoint its location. She still couldn’t stop the entire thing, of course.

But who said she _needed_ to?

As the mountain charged down at her, Azula just sat, carefully moderating her breathing. Ten _shaku_ away...five...three...one...

At the last moment, Azula thrust her hands up. She couldn’t suppress a smile.

The rock crashed to the ground. A millisecond later, a perfectly cylindrical slab of rock erupted from it, flying straight into the air, leaving a gap just large enough for a fourteen-year-old Avatar to sit in. Azula was now totally protected by the mass of rock around her, and even better, Bumi had no idea just _where_ she was inside it—while her seismic sense allowed her to know _his_ location with perfect clarity. She leisurely rotated the earth cylinder and sent it flying at him.

Before it even reached him, Azula breathed in, breathed out, and thrust another cylinder out of the rock, this time straight forward. Then three more, this time with a burst of fire behind each.

After those, Azula sensed cracks forming in the rock around her. Most likely, Bumi was preparing to break his mountain apart in order to discern her location. Azula made her preparations, and steeled her mind.

The rock fell into pieces, giving Bumi line-of-sight toward her. At the same time, it gave Azula a free line to _him_ —and since she already knew his location, she got the first move. She struck her own back with a slab of earth to launch herself into the air, used fire and wind to increase her speed, tackled him to the ground, and used frozen water to dig into his chest.

“ _I win_ ,” Azula rasped, elation flooding her body.

But right as she brought an ice knife to his neck, she felt powerful hands clasp around her throat.

The two of them remained in that deadly embrace for several seconds. But eventually, finally, she heard the mad king’s rasping laugh.

“Well done, Avatar. You fight with fire in your belly and ice in your blood.”

* * *

“Are you saying you were planning to ally with me from the beginning?” Azula asked dubiously.

Bumi laughed. “Of course. Did you think I defended this city for eighty years by making fun of people?”

“Yes,” Sokka muttered next to her.

As it turned out, Azula’s companions had never been imprisoned. Bumi had earthbent them through the floor, then his attendants had given them a full tour and (another) feast. They had even watched her fight, apparently.

The others swore they didn’t interfere because they had promised not to, but Azula knew they had all completely enjoyed watching Bumi play her for a fool.

“So why put me through all those...challenges?”

“First of all, it’s fun messing with people.”

“True,” Toph said, sounding impressed. Azula punched her, willing to suffer the inevitable revenge strike.

“Second,” Bumi continued, “you actually helped me out by doing the first challenge, Avatar.”

“Really?”

“I wasn’t lying about the spy in my palace.”

Now _that_ , she wasn’t expecting. “Huh?”

“A man named Long Feng is the current Grand Secretariat of Ba Sing Se, but more importantly, he’s the leader of the Dai Li. He’s been spying on me periodically to no real effect, but this time he might have been able to find a scroll I _really_ don’t want him to have.”

It didn’t take long for Azula to put two and two together. “From the first challenge.”

Bumi clapped his hands. “Precisely! I have my hiding places, of course, but the Dai Li knows most of them already. By giving you the scroll and sending you out of the palace for an hour, I fooled him into thinking I don’t even have it. Saved me a lot of trouble.”

Azula wasn’t sure exactly what to think about this. “What’s in the scroll?” she managed to stumble out.

“Impatience isn’t good for you,” Bumi chided. “All in due course.”

Even now, Azula wasn’t quite sure whether, and to what extent, Bumi was insane. But she could tell when a line of questioning had been shut down. “What about the other two challenges, then?”

“Ah, yes. Your tactics truly are typical firebender, Avatar: constant attacks to keep up the pressure. That’s your natural style of combat, and your natural style of negotiation. Am I correct in assuming that most of your strategies revolve around overwhelming your opponent with power to force their submission?”

“Well...to a certain extent, I suppose,” Azula said slowly. “When you have the most power, is there a more effective method?”

Bumi laughed. “That depends. Sometimes you have to look past appearance into reality, like the first challenge. Sometimes you have to fundamentally rethink your goal, like the second challenge. And sometimes, as you applied in our duel, precision and seizing the initiative can overcome pure power. Crushing your opponent with power alone isn’t always the answer, a lesson I suspect the Firelord will soon learn.”

The mention of Ozai rattled her, and she couldn’t think of a good response. She recognized that Bumi’s speech _was_ similar to what Naya and Aang sometimes said when she didn’t waterbend or airbend properly. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s good. Incidentally, before you assume you don’t have to improve much because you fought me to a draw, do understand that I was very much holding back during our duel.”

“Called it!” Toph shouted as the others, even Naya, snickered. Resolving to take off her eye cloth and give them each a nice eyeball-less glare later, Azula merely said, “In order to test me?”

“As you say. We can have a real fight if and when you defeat the Firelord.”

Azula nodded while trying to ignore her wounded pride.

“In any event,” Bumi breezed on, “I assume you are heading to Ba Sing Se from here?”

“Correct.”

“If you can set up a meeting with the Council of Five and the Water Tribes, I’ll show up. Just tell me the time and place. And watch yourself around Long Feng.”

Azula nodded again. “I guess we’ll be going, then.”

But just as Azula and the others were about to leave, Bumi spoke up again.

“Oh, Avatar, I’ve been meaning to ask you something for a while.”

Out of civility, Azula turned around. “What is it?”

“Why do you smell like cabbages?”

* * *

“Oh man, Mongke!” Mung grinned widely and slapped Mongke on the back. “It’s been forever! What’ve you been up to?”

Mongke smiled too, but it was for show. He and Mung had both served under General Iroh before the latter turned traitor, and he remembered Mung as a pompous fool. It didn’t bode well for the Fire Nation war effort if a man like him could be made general. Well, as long as he got paid, it didn’t particularly matter. “I decided to quit the army and become a mercenary. You should consider it; the pay’s a lot better.”

Mung guffawed. “Appreciate the advice, but I prefer a stable income.” He looked over Mongke’s shoulder. “And who’s this?”

“One of my subordinates.” Mongke stepped back and gestured at her. “Name’s Otori.” She smiled her ‘cheerful’ smile and waved.

“A pleasure to meet you.” Mung bowed, then elbowed Mongke in the chest and whispered, “You finally got a woman, I see. Didn’t know that was your type.”

Every second made Mongke remember another reason he didn’t like Mung. His dull emotions were helpful here, as his annoyance was just a vague pang, easily ignored. “She’s just a subordinate,” he whispered back.

Mung shrugged. “If you say so.” He raised his voice and said, “Anyway Mongke, you said in your letter you have something to discuss with me, right? What is it?”

“I understand you have soldiers named Hiro and Hina. Otori and I would like to see them.”

“...Hiro and Hina?” Mung had a funny look on his face. “How do you know them?”

“They’re my younger brother and sister,” Otori said, still with her ‘cheerful’ smile on.

“Hm.” Mung looked at Mongke suspiciously and scratched his chin. “Interesting coincidence. You know, those two are the entire reason I’m here in the Earth Kingdom.”

Mongke raised an eyebrow. _Interesting indeed_. “Is that so?”

Mung nodded. “Follow me. I’ll explain on the way.” The three of them left his tent, and he related his story as they walked through camp. “I used to be stationed at this factory next to a shithole fishing town. Most boring job in the world, let me tell you. One day, though, I heard that a couple of traveling _kabuki_ actors had shown up to do a show, which was just about the most interesting thing that happened all year, so I decided to go.”

He stopped walking and pointed. They had arrived at an open space, where two people stood surrounded by a few dozen soldiers. The two figures looked almost identical: they were tall, seemed to be in their early 20s, with long, flowing hair and virtually immaculate robes. Their faces were painted in the _kabuki_ style, but even so Mongke could tell they were very beautiful. They seemed to be engaged in some sort of improvisational _kabuki_ -style performance, which must’ve been entertaining as the soldiers sitting around them laughed frequently.

“Their acting was decent enough; what caught my attention was their use of firebending. Unusual in _kabuki_ ,” Mongke thought, _I know that_ , “and they were quite clumsy, but I could tell they had potential, so I offered to train them. They were pretty hard-up at the time, so they agreed in exchange for food and a place to sleep.” He grinned. “Little did I know just _how much_ potential they had. I informed the Capital, had them give a demonstration to General Bujing, and I finally got moved from that dead-end job to the front lines. Hiro and Hina got drafted and sent with me.”

“Drafted?”

“Yeah, they weren’t happy about it, but the army wasn’t going to pass up firebenders of their caliber.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Mongke noticed Otori’s hand move to her side. Alarmed, he put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. She glared at him, but thankfully put her knife back away before Mung noticed. Turning back to Mung, he said, “Are they really that strong?”

“Looks like they’re about to finish their performance, so you’ll get to see for yourself.”

Mongke looked back at the two actors, and a few seconds later they simultaneously began a long, drawn-out kata. It was so exaggeratedly slow that he was starting to wonder if Otori had been pulling his leg about their talent—and then they finished, raising their hands into the air. A _humongous_ pillar of fire erupted from their palms. It was wider than the crowd gathered around them and taller than a five-story house. As Mongke watched, the top part of the pillar started splitting until they formed branches, and then the branches started to grow leaves.

A giant tree of flame floated above the camp.

It disappeared a few seconds later and the two firebenders collapsed to the ground as the soldiers rose to their feet, clapping and cheering. Mongke couldn’t help but join in.

After the excitement died down and the soldiers mostly left the clearing, the two of them looked in Mongke’s direction, smiled broadly, and ignored him completely to tackle Otori to the ground, hugging her tightly.

“Sister!” one of them said.

“I can’t fucking believe it!” the other said.

“Same here.” Otori stood up slowly, dragging the other two to their feet in the process. “I heard from that one.” She jabbed her finger at Mung. “You got drafted?”

One of them pouted. “Yeah. It sucks.” This voice was slightly deeper than the other one, so he guessed it was Hiro.

The other one (likely Hina) looked angry. “We ran away from home to get _away_ from bullshit rules—”

Now Hiro (?) also got angry. “—but these assholes are even worse than our parents—”

“—which is a really fucking high bar—”

They continued on like that. Mongke looked at Mung in disbelief. “Are...are you really going to let them talk about you like that?”

Mung sighed deeply, scrunched up his face, and kneaded his forehead. “Every day is a battle to get them to submit to any discipline whatsoever. Compared to how they used to be, this level of insubordination is a blessing, trust me.”

“—we got kicked out of our troupe when they found out Hina was a girl—”

“—which is fucking bullshit, they let women join the army but _kabuki_ is a bridge too far apparently—”

“So,” Mung said, removing his hand from his forehead, “I assume you’re here to let your girlfriend catch up with them, so in the meantime, want to have a drink?”

“Actually, that’s not why I’m here.” Mongke fished a scroll out of his pocket and handed it to Mung.

At first, Mung seemed confused. That didn’t last long. As he read his face flashed through many emotions, from disbelief, to anger, to a look Mongke could only describe as hatred. “What are you trying to pull here, Mongke?” he finally said.

“This is a direct order from high command. The seal proves it.”

“Don’t you _dare_ try to trick me, you sewer runoff!” He held up the scroll and pointed at Mongke, fury and fear stitched to his face. “There’s _no way_ high command would let them leave the army to join you! The penalty for faking an order is _death_ , Mongke!”

Hiro and Hina had stopped talking and were looking intently at the two of them. Aware of the need to leave a good first impression, Mongke calmly pulled another scroll out of his pocket and unfurled it in front of Mung. He recited it from memory. “Former Colonel Mongke and his Rough Rhinos are to head north and join Admiral Zhao’s forces at the marked location.” He smiled. “As you see, they’ll still be aiding the war effort, so it’s more of a transfer.” He looked back at the firebenders. “Though the nice thing about being a mercenary is we have far fewer rules than the military. That’s why _I_ left, after all.”

Mung was getting more and more worked up. He leaned in close and hissed, “If this is how you want to play, Mongke, I’m game. Agni Kai, right here, right now.”

Mongke was about to respond, when Otori suddenly dashed at them and shoved Mung back with her shoulder. Before he could react, a thin wall of fire rose from the ground, separating them.

Turning around, Mongke saw Hiro and Hina smiling wider than anyone he could remember, eyes wet with tears. Otori, for her part, was wearing her most evil grin yet.

“Shall we go, boss?” the twins spoke in unison.

* * *

**End of Chapter 7**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shaku is an ancient Japanese unit of measurement which Wikipedia tells me is approximately equivalent to one foot. As a reminder, “Tian” was essentially the chief god of Imperial China.
> 
> Mung, as alluded to, was the villain in the Painted Lady episode. Bujing was the general who recommended that new Fire Nation soldiers be used as bait (which is what led to Zuko’s fateful Agni Kai in canon).
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	9. A Mask for Every Season

**Timeline Note:** Each section of this chapter (except for the first two) takes place approximately a year after the previous section.

Special thanks to my previous beta Lavanya Six, and my current betas Devon and Aurelia Le!

* * *

**The Right to Rule**

An _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ fanfic

* * *

**Chapter 8**

**A Mask for Every Season**

* * *

It was a very hot day.

“What did you want to talk about, Azula?”

Facing her bedroom mirror, Azula slowly and methodically trimmed her hair with a knife. Mai waited in the doorway. Azula had learned this trick from Father: let them think nice and long about how much power you have over them.

Mai had been trained well too. She held out for a long time—almost fifteen minutes—but eventually she cracked.

“Azula?”

Azula smiled and turned to face her. “I saw you with Zuko the other day.”

When Azula had gathered information on Mai in the weeks after they first met, everyone told her the same thing: ‘The girl shows no emotions.’ After a few years, however, she’d learned that wasn’t really true. Mai never showed her emotions _directly_ , but Azula had found out it was possible to glean what she was feeling from what she _wasn’t_ doing. Right now, Mai wasn’t blinking, she wasn’t standing perfectly straight, she wasn’t moving her fingers, and more. Which meant Azula was right: Mai had a crush on Zuko.

She could barely contain her excitement. With this, she could kill two birds with one stone. Or maybe ‘control’ would be the better verb.

“What’s your point?” Mai asked.

“First, I wanted to thank you. Zuko doesn’t have many friends, you know. Or, well, any. I’m glad my brother has someone to talk to.”

Mai scoffed, feigning indifference, but Azula could tell she was terrified. Time to drive it in.

“But more importantly, Mai, I have a request.”

“Yes?”

“Would you mind seducing him?”

As it turned out, Azula was wrong; it _was_ possible to drive Mai to display emotion directly. After she said that, Mai flinched back, mouth hanging open in shock.

“W-What?”

Azula let out a deep and dramatic sigh and stood up. Copying something she had seen Father do, she walked toward Mai slowly and spoke with as deep and threatening a tone as she could. “You see, Mai, I want to be Firelord someday. Father wants me to be Firelord someday. The job doesn’t suit Zuko anyway. He’d hate it. But just in case he puts up a fight, it would be useful to have an ally near him.”

Mai had been trained well. She had probably observed some of her family’s dealings with other nobles. But she had almost certainly never heard something like this.

So Azula wasn’t too surprised when Mai let an emotion show directly for a second time: fear. A fear so white-hot it drained what little color her face had, one that wrenched her eyes wide open, made sweat fall off her like a waterfall, and left her gasping for breath like she had gotten kicked in the gut.

Azula’s pulse raced and her heart pounded against her ribs. She had seen people more afraid than this, prisoners right after they were condemned to die, but this was the first time she had _caused_ someone such intense fear.

It felt very good.

Mai barely managed to choke out her next words. “You want me to date Zuko...and then spy on him?”

Azula smiled happily. “Exactly! I’m so lucky to have a friend as smart as you, Mai.”

“But—”

Azula glared.

Her two friends were quite different. For instance, Ty Lee didn’t really understand politics. The first time she disobeyed, Azula had tried to lightly remind her what Azula’s family could do to hers. The second time, she tried to explain it subtly. The third time, she lost her temper and laid it out for Ty Lee in such explicit terms that it left her sobbing on the floor.

Mai, on the other hand, understood politics very well. She didn’t have to be reminded once.

“Alright.”

The sun shone through the window, hot and bright.

* * *

Azula didn’t know quite what to say, and evidently neither did the other two.

After Ozai’s death, Azula had put herself into self-imposed exile, returning one month later for the Peace and Reconciliation Summit. After that, she had spent almost a year trying to stabilize the world after the century-long war. Then, when things largely settled down, Aang dropped the bomb about her being able to control what she did at the North Pole—but he recommended she take care of any unfinished business before trekking to the Eastern Air Temple. And there _was_ one thing she had been putting off ever since the Summit.

She sent letters to Mai and Ty Lee, asking them to meet her in the palace. To talk.

_At least they showed up_ , Azula thought as the two of them entered the room and sat down opposite her.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Azula finally sucked it up and forced herself to say what she was going to say.

First, though, she breathed in and out deeply. This wasn’t going to be easy.

“I want to apologize.”

They seemed shocked. Not surprising. Azula continued, not even pausing to breathe. “I was a really, _really_ bad friend to you both. You probably hate me. _I’d_ hate me. So I’m sorry.”

Azula was getting out of breath, so she had to stop. As she sucked in air, she couldn’t decide if she preferred them to say something or remain silent. In any event, they did the latter, so Azula had to move on. “I’d like to start things over with you two. If you want. If you don’t, though, I understand. You can walk out of this room, and I promise there won’t be any hard feelings. But if you stay...maybe we can work something out.”

That was already the second-hardest thing she’d had to do in her life; only learning airbending topped it, while fighting Ozai wasn’t even close. And she hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet: waiting for their reaction. Her heart was beating so quickly that it drowned out all thought.

After an interminable length of time, Ty Lee spoke. “Azula...”

Whatever she was about to say got interrupted by the sounds of Mai standing up and stomping toward the door.

“Wait, Mai!” Ty Lee called out, but it was of no use. The _fusuma_ sliding door closed behind Mai with a bang.

After a moment, Azula heard Ty Lee’s voice again. “Don’t take that the wrong way, Azula. I’m sure she just...”

Azula chuckled. “No. She wants nothing to do with me. I can’t blame her.”

Except that was a lie.

Maybe Azula _shouldn’t_ blame her. She had entered this little meeting telling herself it was eminently possible, if not likely, for _both_ of them to walk out on her. But deep in some irrational part of her mind, she still expected them both to lay the past to rest and forgive her.

Some deep irrational part of Azula thought she _deserved_ their forgiveness. And felt betrayed.

* * *

“I must admit, little Avatar, I didn’t expect to have to do this again.”

“Oh, shut up. And I’m already sixteen.”

“And you’ll always be shorter than me.”

Azula grumbled. She had thought rounding up a group of bandits would be a nice vacation from being the world’s babysitter. But she had hit a spell of bad luck, fell down hard, and put too much pressure on her old wound, breaking her arm again. “If you didn’t want to do this again, you should’ve done a better job fixing it,” she said.

Kalu clicked his tongue. “I’ll remind you that _you_ chose to get your bones broken a second time. If you spend your time running after every two-bit crook, don’t blame me when you break something.”

Going to him to get it fixed had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now she was revising that stance. “I don’t tell you how to live your life, you don’t tell me how to live mine.”

Kalu laughed. “How you live your life affects how we _all_ live ours, little Avatar.”

Azula grumbled again. Kalu was the one person in the world she hated arguing with. “Just set my damn arm.”

There was only one thing that annoyed Azula more than Kalu talking: Kalu humming. “Actually, I think this would be good practice for my assistant. Would you mind?”

Kalu’s ‘assistant’ was a man in his mid-20s named Uran. Of course, your assistants don’t normally live with you, in an igloo which emitted mysterious sounds almost every night. Everyone knew the _true_ nature of their relationship, naturally.

Regardless, Azula had to admit Kalu was a skillful healer. The procedure only took around a half-hour. He even shut up while doing it, although he did keep humming. Uran stayed silent.

“Alright, that’s almost all of it. I have a house call to attend to, so could you apply the finishing touches, Uran?”

“Sure,” Uran said. Azula didn’t bother protesting.

The igloo developed an awkward silence after Kalu left. To break it, and also because it had been on her mind a while, Azula asked Uran a question. “You know what they say about you, right?”

“Huh?”

“What the other tribespeople say about you and Kalu, behind your backs.”

He gave a short, bitter chuckle. “It’s hard to miss.”

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

He spent a few minutes finishing the procedure before responding. “Of course it does. But not by much. I’ve been bullied since I was a kid. Nowadays, they don’t even say anything to my face, much less physically hurt me. And besides,” Azula detected a subtle shift in tone, “it’s a lot easier when you’re not alone.”

Azula couldn’t think of anything to say to that. Luckily, Uran changed the subject quickly so she didn’t have to. “Anyway, keep your arm wrapped in this for a week, then come back so we can see how it’s mending.”

Azula nodded. “Thanks.” She walked out of the igloo without another word.

* * *

Azula absentmindedly tapped her fingers on the table. She shifted the tea cup around before drinking from it.

It was very annoying to admit, but Iroh did make good tea.

Azula and Iroh didn’t talk much anymore. They had never really liked each other, and unlike Zuko, Iroh didn’t have any political power. For reasons she still couldn’t comprehend, he had abdicated his position of influence after the War in order to open a tea shop in a small Fire Nation town. Now, three years later, he showed no intention of ever leaving. Even when he had visitors, he refused to talk politics with them. As far as Azula could tell, he was mostly just waiting to die, and yet seemed happier than she had ever known him to be.

He was a very strange man.

After taking a big gulp from his own tea cup, Iroh started the conversation. “How’s Zuko doing?”

Even though Zuko was much closer to Iroh than Azula was, his lack of a flying monster to ride made it more difficult for him to visit. “Doing about as well as you could reasonably expect,” Azula said evenly. “Mai and others are helping out, so he’s somehow holding the country together.”

“I see.” Another gulp of tea. While pouring himself another cup, he asked, “And how about you?”

“Has another war broken out yet?”

Iroh laughed at that one. “I suppose not,” he said.

Azula sipped her tea again. “Though to be fair, that might be because they’re too distracted by domestic problems.”

“I’ve heard such rumors,” Iroh said, surprisingly without much gravity.

Ever since his return to the palace after Lu Ten’s death, Iroh had been mostly dour and gloomy. The change in personality never failed to bother her. “I guess after the foreign enemy leaves, you remember that you actually hate each other.”

Iroh laughed again. “The story of the human race.”

They drank in silence for a time, until Azula just couldn’t bear it anymore. “Why are you so damn happy?”

“Hm?”

“You’re living by yourself in a town nobody’s heard of! When you could’ve been the most powerful person in the Fire Nation! So why are you so happy?”

Iroh filled his teacup again and drank long enough to drain it all before talking. “I know it was a miserable time for you, trying to learn airbending on the South Pole. But it was for me, too. Ever since Lu Ten died...” He paused, but started talking again quickly. “Ever since then, I’ve only truly been interested in tea and contemplation. Now that the world’s in capable hands, I’m free to do just that.”

Azula didn’t know how to respond, so she decided to focus on the part that was about herself. “Did you just compliment me, old man?” she asked, only half-teasingly.

Iroh chuckled. “Even your worst enemies cannot deny you’re _capable_ , my dear niece.”

She couldn’t understand why her uncle did half the things he did. She suspected he didn’t understand her much, either. Even when the other was all they had, they didn’t really get along.

But even so...well, they were family, after all. Whatever that meant.

Azula smiled.

* * *

“Please explain to me why we’re doing this.”

“Hunting together is the best way for two men to reach an underst—”

“I’m not a man!”

“Sure, but the principle still applies.”

Azula sighed and fell back to lie down on the snow. Four years had passed since the end of the War, but Sokka still hadn’t changed. “You know, when _civilized_ people hunt, we actually track down and kill the animals. We don’t just set a trap and hope the animal will wander into it for hours.”

“They do that up here too, actually; Arnook’s taken me on a bunch of hunts,” Sokka said. “But I prefer this way. Gives you time to think.”

“Still calling him by his name?”

“Yeah, I can’t get into the habit of calling him ‘Father.’ He doesn’t really mind.”

“Hm. I guess he is rather laid-back, for the leader of a major nation.”

Sokka chuckled.

“What?”

“A fraction of the Fire Nation navy almost took us out during the War,” he said. “If it weren’t for you, they would’ve succeeded. I wouldn’t exactly call us _major_.”

“No respect for your adopted tribe?” Azula asked in mock surprise.

“Hey, I married _Yue_. The tribe just came with it.”

“Like a dowry.”

“A what?”

Azula smiled. “Not important. How’s it going with Yue, by the way?”

“It’s going fine. Ups and downs, but we always work it out in the end.”

Hm. Not the most ringing of endorsements. Well, maybe that was natural; considering how disgustingly lovey-dovey they were at the start, perhaps there was nowhere to go but down.

“So? I assume you didn’t come all the way here just to talk about my marriage?”

Azula let a suitable amount of time pass, then said, “I hear you’ve been working closely with the mechanist recently.”

“Yup. He’s a key part of my plan.”

“Oh?”

“Long Feng would attack us as soon as he got the opportunity. Zuko I trust with my life, but I know there’s a bunch of nobles and military types there who’d love to finish what Zhao started. We need to compete with them somehow. I figure, we can do it with technology. So I made a deal with Guang: he supplies us with blueprints, we promise to protect him if Long Feng tries to conquer his temple.”

_The mechanist moved straight from one client to another, I see._ Azula didn’t know what bothered her more: that the cowardly old man didn’t tell her about this deal, or that Sokka told her so readily. “I appreciate the information, but are you sure you should be telling me this?”

“Why shouldn’t I? You’re the Avatar.”

“Yes, but I...” She trailed off, but Sokka seemed to get the point. For better or worse—mostly for worse—they had been around each other for years, from the time she arrived at the South Pole to the end of the War. More than most, he had seen her at some of her lowest points, and one of those points involved seriously injuring his sister. It’s not like they were friends or—

_Crash_!

“Hell yeah, a polar leopard! We’re having a feast tonight! Come on Azula, help me get it out.”

Azula stood up, and together they dragged the leopard out of the spike trap. It was a heavy animal, and they were both exhausted by the end.

“Congratulations,” she said in between gasping for air, “you finally killed an animal, Sokka.”

That earned her a shove. She was expecting it, but it still sent her sprawling. Azula felt acute embarrassment; Sokka had gotten a lot stronger the past few years. He roared with laughter as she sat back up and brushed snow off her coat.

When he finally stopped laughing, he said, “By the way, Azula.”

“What?” she grumbled.

“When two people succeed in a hunt together, it means they’re friends.”

Her head snapped around to face him.

“Another of our stupid customs,” he went on.

Azula continued to face him for a few more seconds, her mouth hanging open. Then she forced it closed, stood up, and with a sweep of her legs and arms, encased the polar leopard in a mass of snow and levitated it off the ground.

“Let’s go back and have that feast,” she said, fighting hard to keep the gratitude out of her voice.

* * *

“Alright, it’s like this,” Aang said. “You’re sensing me now. But those sensations _aren’t you_. You just have them. You’re also not your memories, or your thoughts, or anything else of that nature. Right?”

“Sure.”

“So what _are_ you, then?”

“I dunno.”

“Exactly!” He jumped up and down excitedly. “Your _self_ doesn’t actually exist. So then—”

“Remind me again how this relates to Koh?”

“I’m getting to that,” Aang said impatiently. “This isn’t really accurate, but one way of thinking about it is, like,” he made a circle with his hands, “we’re sort of like a void with a bunch of stuff piled all around it. And that stuff _thinks_ there’s something substantive there at the center, even though it’s really just empty space. Make sense so far?”

The scary thing was, after her time with Pathik, Aang’s ramblings kind of _did_ make sense. “Sort of. But go on.”

“Um. Okay. So Koh is basically the same, but on a higher level. Koh is also a void, like all of us, but what surrounds that void is _people_ , not just experiences. Therefore, he doesn’t really have a ‘real’ face; even the one you saw was just another mask. Wait!”

He held up his hand, even though Azula wasn’t about to say anything. Aang continued, “I just thought of this, but my analogy might explain why he seeks out new faces. If faces are Koh’s equivalent to experiences, then maybe the only way he can gain any new sensations, memories, or thoughts is by stealing a face. Hm.” He scratched his chin. “Now I feel really bad for him.”

“That’s just speculation though, right?”

Aang shrugged. “Everything’s speculation, and everything concerning spirits moreso. I talked about it a lot with Roku and Hatsuna, but even Avatars don’t really know much about them. It’s basically just trial and error, honestly.” A rare semi-chiding tone entered his voice when he then said, “That’s why I keep _trying_ to get you to think these things through yourself.”

“Hm.”

Aang cocked his head. “Something wrong?”

One of the things Azula had been working on since the War was being more open with people. Now, five years post-War, it...wasn’t going well. But maybe now was a good time to practice, since Aang was more or less forced to interact with her no matter what. “When I first met you all, Roku said that when a Spirit Adviser teaches all they know, they move on. So if I do learn how to deal with spirits by myself...”

Every time Aang grinned, it seemed to Azula like the widest one she had ever seen. Most of the time, that was probably an exaggeration. This time, though, it _definitely_ wasn’t. “Awww, Azula! Are you saying you don’t want me to go?”

Azula looked away. “I’m just not looking forward to dealing with the Spirit World by myself.” Movement out of the corner of her eye—eye-socket—caused her to turn back, but not in time to avoid Aang’s hug. “Hey! Stop it!”

To his credit, he did break off quickly, and the insanely huge grin gradually diminished into a somewhat regular-sized smile. “I really appreciate that, Azula. But if you gained control over the Avatar State, the one thing you should’ve internalized is that everything dies. Besides,” the smile widened again, “I’m sure you’ll be fine. We often disagree, but at the end of the day, you’re the one who redeemed my failure. That’s more important than anything I can teach you.”

She was pretty startled, especially when she paid more attention to his face. Her face-reading skills had gotten rusty, but for the first time she noticed a sadness behind Aang’s sunny demeanor. And that was the first time he had ever even alluded to his twelve years of life in the Material World.

“Anyway,” Aang clapped his hands, and the sadness—if it had even been there in the first place—disappeared instantly. “That answered your question about Koh, right? What’s next?”

It took a second for Azula to re-calibrate. “I’m curious about how Hei Bai can change shape...”

* * *

“Oh. Azula. I’m surprised to see you.” _Surprise_ wasn’t exactly the first word Azula would use to describe Katara’s tone.

_Trust me, I’m no happier about this_ , she thought. “We should talk about your pupils.” When she returned to the South Pole after the War, Katara had started a tribeless waterbending school of sorts. Now, six years post-War, the ‘school’ had over a hundred students and the number was growing every month; she was by far the most powerful waterbender in the South, especially after Hama’s death, so she was in high demand.

“Alright,” Katara said. “Um, come inside, I’ll make you something.”

Azula tried not to think of anything as she sat in the igloo, waiting for Katara to boil water over a fire. After a perfunctory sip of the hot water, Azula got down to business. The two of them talked for an hour about Katara’s pupils and the influence they gave her in the other tribes. Having so many strong waterbenders from many different tribes indebted to her in itself made Katara one of the most politically powerful people on the continent. Not to mention that, since Sokka had married into the Northern Water Tribe, she was set to replace Hakoda as Chieftain of the largest Southern Tribe. She was soon going to become the single most important person in the South, if she wasn’t already.

Hence this lame attempt to patch up their relationship’s old wounds.

“Is that all you wanted to talk about?” Azula couldn’t read Katara’s tone, but she figured that was as good an invitation as she was ever going to get.

She did her best to sound contrite. “In those days, all I cared about was learning airbending and killing Ozai. I didn’t want to have...friends. So I’m sorry.”

A pause. Then: “Do you want to be friends now?”

Azula smiled grimly. “That’s likely impossible at this point. I’m thinking more _allies_.”

This time, the pause was longer. “What do you care about now, then?”

“Huh?”

“You said you used to only care about mastering airbending and killing your father. Well, you’ve done both. So _now_ what do you care about?”

The question was surprising to Azula. Her difficulty at answering it even moreso. “Keeping the world’s balance,” she eventually said, but it sounded like an excuse even to her ears.

Katara, naturally, wasn’t fooled. “And why do you care about that?”

She couldn’t help but recall what Roku had told her, the information she still didn’t know what to do with. _What do you think will happen when you die?_ “Look, does it really matter—”

“You say you want to be allies. How can I ally with you if I don’t know what you want?”

Azula’s hand had wandered dangerously close to her eye socket before she forced it down. “For the past one hundred years, the Southern Water Tribes were united against the Fire Nation. Now that the War’s over, inter-tribal conflicts in the South have started again, and they’re only intensifying. I want to limit them as much as possible. You want that too, I assume?”

Katara didn’t respond. Azula pressed on. “A civil war is in _nobody’s_ best interest. Agreed?”

Eventually, Katara sighed. “I guess that’s fine for now.”

Azula was hit by a wave of relief. She could deal with the ‘for now’ part later.

“I see a civil war coming too,” Katara said. “I confess I have no idea about how to stop it. If you have any _ethical_ suggestions, I’m all ears.”

Now Azula was back in her element. She ignored the implied insult and said, “None for now; we don’t have quite enough leverage to make any major moves yet. For the time being, keep training your pupils, and keep in touch with the ones who graduate. Prepare for the time you’ll have to call in favors.”

“Alright.”

Compared to friendship, alliances were child’s play.

* * *

“Greetings, Avatar. Welcome to my humble abode.”

“Um...apologies for intruding.” Azula was usually good at court-speak, but it seemed to come to Yue as natural as breathing, so in her presence, Azula always second-guessed herself. It was all the more galling because she was a Water Tribe barbarian, although to be fair the North was far more civilized than the South.

“Oh, no trouble at all. I am always honored to have the Avatar as my guest.” Seriously, while formal speech normally involved using a thousand words to lie two thousand times, when Yue did it, she sounded utterly honest. It was extremely strange.

“And I am always...honored to be here, Princess.”

Yue held Azula’s arm and led her through the palace. Going barefoot on an ice floe was definitely a Bad Idea, and Azula couldn’t navigate a building through airbending alone, so she always needed help up here. It was a heavy indignity, but she managed to bear it with something resembling grace.

When they arrived at Yue’s room, the two of them sat down and began talking. It had been over a year, so there were many topics that demanded discussion. While Yue didn’t technically have any political power, she _did_ have good insight into the state of the Northern Water Tribe, its relations with foreign countries, and the personalities of its luminaries. Arnook was a good enough leader, to be sure, but he was a far worse people person than Yue. Not to mention, she was much more open with Azula.

The events during the Siege of the North ( _m_ _ore than seven years ago now_ , a strange thought) had made the two of them... _friendly_ , at least. Some might even call them ‘friends,’ though honestly Azula didn’t really know at what point you moved from the former to the latter.

Pathik’s words from the sixth chakra came back to her. _Have you ever heard of the paradox of heaps?_

In any event, after getting through political matters—Yue said that, while the North’s official position concerning foreign affairs remained neutrality, there were efforts underfoot to support disunity in the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation, and conversely to support Katara and her tribe in the South—Azula felt it was okay to satisfy one of her curiosities.

“To change the subject, Yue, I’ve heard certain...rumors.”

“Yes?”

“Rumors about you. And men.” To be specific, they were about her inviting attractive young men to her room—and vice versa for Sokka and women.

“Ah.” Yue sighed. “Those.”

She sounded quite sad, so Azula rushed to try and repair any damage she might have done. “I’m not judging you—”

“Yes, Azula,” Yue said, surprising Azula since Yue never interrupted anyone, “I know you aren’t.” She sighed again. “Give me a small amount of time to think about how to phrase what I want to say.”

Azula did so. It didn’t take Yue long. “I was infatuated with Sokka from the moment we met. He was my first love. I imagine it was the same for him. But that infatuation soon faded, and when it did, we found out that we didn’t really have that much in common.” She sighed for a third time—it would’ve been for appearance’s sake if anyone else had done it, but like everything else, Yue made it seem completely genuine. “Our parents approved our marriage for political reasons, to unite the North and South. At first, we just thought it a fortuitous circumstance that allowed us to be together. Now, we’d fall apart without it.

“We’re still on friendly terms, of course, but only as acquaintances. We’ve both agreed to let the other do what they want. And...well, we both have certain needs, after all.”

Azula nodded, since there was nothing else she could think to do. She had known Sokka and Yue’s relationship was in trouble for a long time, but she had no idea it was _that_ bad. When her parents’ marriage had deteriorated, it was...not pretty. She felt like she ought to say something to make Yue feel better, but her mind refused to work properly.

After a few seconds, Yue just giggled. “Don’t make that face, Azula. It’s not as bad as all that. We just weren’t meant for each other, that’s all. We had a few great years, and now it’s over. There are far worse things in this world.”

* * *

A month had passed since Ichiro’s capture and execution. Azula had won...but the sacrifice needed for that victory had been serious. She had avoided her brother and sister/niece entirely afterward, figuring that he’d contact her when he was ready. And so he did.

The first thing she asked Zuko when they were alone was, “Does Mai know I’m here?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“She’s not happy about it, but she understands the necessity.”

_The necessity. The Firelord can’t avoid the Avatar forever, I suppose._ “What were her conditions?”

A brief chuckle. “You know her well. The conditions are you don’t come close to her, Izumi, or _especially_ Azaka.”

She had figured as much, but it still hurt to get confirmation. “Alright. Next question. If it were entirely up to you, what would _your_ conditions be?”

Zuko breathed a long, heavy sigh. “You really don’t hold back.” Azula didn’t dare to break the long silence that followed. Eventually, he said, “For now, I think she’s right. You should meet with Azaka again one day...but not for a while.”

Azula nodded. “Fair enough.”

“My turn. If you had known for sure this would be the result, would you still have done what you did?”

“If I could do it over again, I would’ve been more diplomatic afterward. But yes, I still would’ve done it.”

He chuckled again. “I’ll be honest, Azula. I guessed that would be your answer, but it still fucking hurts to hear.”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a long time.

“So,” Azula finally said, “what do you want to do?”

“Right now, I’d like you to sit still for a bit.”

Confused, she did so, and then she felt Zuko’s hand on her shoulder. She flinched back in surprise, then uneasily returned to her original position, hand still on her shoulder.

“You didn’t believe me the last time I told you this,” Zuko said, “but I honestly never hated you. I was often really angry or sad—and I’m both those things right now, believe me—but no matter what, you’ll always be my sister.”

He removed his hand. Azula’s mind was aflame. On her part, she had never really thought of Zuko as family. From the beginning, he had just been another enemy. And he was right; despite everything they’d gone through since their reunion in the South, she had always assumed he viewed her the same way. To find out she had been wrong, _now_ of all times, was...she couldn’t even find the words to describe it.

“Saying ‘no matter what’ is imbecilic,” she eventually muttered. _If I still had tear ducts, I wonder if I’d be crying right no_ _w_.

* * *

Zuko had said he’d let her meet Azaka again one day. And true to his word, a year after the incident with Ichiro, that day came. He didn’t tell her what he had done to get Mai’s approval, which was probably for the best.

In the past, Azaka always tackle-hugged her as soon as Azula opened the door to her room. That didn’t happen this time.

From the air currents, she could sense Azaka sitting in a chair near her desk. Her niece wasn’t saying a word. Silently, Azula took a chair from elsewhere in the room and set it next to Azaka’s before sitting down.

The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes. Azaka was still young, though—only eleven—and she cracked quickly. “Hi, Aunt Azula.”

“Hi.” She felt kind of bad about the power play of making Azaka speak first, but every other idea she had for how to begin this talk had seemed even worse.

“Mother didn’t want you to meet with me.”

“Do _you_ want to?”

“...I dunno.”

In the past, Azaka had swung between multiple extreme moods quickly. Now, though, she just seemed...muted. “I really wanted to talk with you,” Azula said.

“Mother says that’s only to make sure I don’t turn against you when I’m Firelord.”

Azula couldn’t hide her shock. “That’s...”

“My parents told me the whole truth afterward.” Azaka still sounded muted, but now Azula heard tears dropping onto the desk in front of her. “About what Ozai...what my blood father did. How people want to kidnap and use me to overthrow Father. Why they won’t let me be alone with Kachi. They said I deserved to know. So please...please tell me the truth. _All_ of it.”

Azaka bent onto the desk and sobbed for a long time. Azula couldn’t think of anything to do, so all she did was sit there until her niece cried out all her tears.

Finally, when Azaka seemed to have mostly recovered, Azula spoke. “Your mother isn’t entirely wrong. That was one reason I treated you well. But I _also_ honestly care for you. It’s...complicated, I suppose. Your mother hates me because...” she trailed off, trying to think of a good way to phrase her point.

Azaka said, “You tried to have her betray Father so you could become Firelord.” Azula was even _more_ shocked at that; her mouth hung open for seconds before she thought to close it. “Sorry. When I said they told me the whole truth, I really meant the _whole_ truth.”

“...Right.” _Mai didn’t hold back at all. Well, I’m not exactly one to judge._

“Father says you’ve changed since then. Mother says you’ve only pretended to change. I want to believe Father, but...the things you said that night...I don’t know.”

It took a large amount of focus for Azula to stop her hand from moving to her eye socket. “I think I’ve changed. But honestly, what _I_ think doesn’t really matter. What matters is what _you_ think. Do research, review the evidence, and decide for yourself.”

Azaka didn’t respond. Belatedly, Azula realized she was paraphrasing Ozai. But, well. Maybe that was inevitable.

“I am happy to answer any questions you have, though,” Azula added. “And I promise to give you the whole truth from now on.”

“...How do you see?”

The question was so incongruous Azula couldn’t help but smile. “Two ways, actually. First, I use earthbending...”

* * *

After gaining the throne, one of Zuko’s major projects had been locating their mother. Nobody alive knew where she was, so it had taken a long time. Eventually, years after the war, he had finally tracked her down to a small, remote, irrelevant Earth Kingdom village.

All that was left of Ursa was a grave. (It was a disease, apparently.)

Zuko had asked Azula if she wanted to visit the grave with him. She declined. Instead of moving the grave to the palace, Zuko just renovated and expanded the one that was already there. Azula didn’t know why and didn’t really care. She had no intention of ever going there.

Then, ten years after the War, _that battle_ happened.

And so it was that, a few days afterward, as Azula tried to deal with what had happened, she found herself at the grave, by herself, in the dead of night, wind howling outside.

_Zuko really did a good job with this_ , she thought. He had built a grand stone structure, with Ursa’s epitaph inscribed into a throne standing in the center. Above it hung an incense holder that Azula could tell was a masterpiece of craftsmanship with a touch.

Of course, she was only really thinking about that stuff to distract herself.

Azula leaned against one of the walls and sighed. “Just what am I doing here?” she asked the air.

Talking to herself was really imbecilic. But there wasn’t anything else to do there, so she kept going. “Zuko spent years looking for you, and this is what he found. Awfully anticlimactic, don’t you think? I had spent so much time thinking about what to say to you if we ever met again, too.” She laughed. “It seems the universe is committed to screwing up all my plans, huh?”

She slowly walked to the stone throne. As she ran her hand along its rim, her mouth moved by itself. “You babied him so much; he was such a mama’s boy. We’re all really lucky Mai’s around, or else the Fire Nation would’ve fallen apart by now. But, well, I suppose he is doing better than I thought he would.”

Azula leaned forward, crossing her arms on top of the throne and resting her head on her wrists. “I do wonder,” she whispered, “what you would say if you saw me today. I’ve tried to imagine it, but each time you tell me something different.”

She stood up, stretched, and started slowly pacing around the room. “It always frustrated me, you know,” she said. “Everyone always said I was better than Zuko at everything, but you still loved him and hated me. I couldn’t figure it out until I stole that look at your diary.” Azula smiled grimly at the memory. “ _I’m afraid of Azula. I think she might be becoming a monster._ That was when I was six. And how long did you have suspicions you couldn’t put into words? Since I was five? Four?”

Azula lay down, her back resting on the cold rock. “After that moment, I decided I hated you and only paid attention to Fath...Ozai. So sometimes, I wonder...how much of my personality is a result of what he made me, and how much of it is a result of me rebelling against you? Was I a monster first, or did you think I was a monster first?”

Azula sighed again. This was extremely imbecilic. Talking about this here was not any different than talking about it anywhere else. There were no answers waiting for her here.

She stood up and walked to the exit. The strong winds intruded into the structure and bit at her skin, causing her to shiver.

And she stopped.

Without knowing why, Azula reached up and untied the bands holding her hair up. Her long black hair fell freely.

A memory floated to the surface.

“ _You have such beautiful hair, Azula.”_

Azula smiled, touching the silky locks. “You did love this, didn’t you?”

Without thinking, Azula withdrew a small knife from her tunic and hacked at her hair. Holding the freed pieces with her left hand, she cut and slashed until all that remained were uneven strands that didn’t even reach her shoulders.

The palace court would’ve been horrified. No proper Fire Nation lady would be caught dead with hair like that. But she was the Avatar, so who cared what they thought?

Azula floated to the stone throne and draped the cut strands on it.

“Farewell, Mother.”

* * *

Even after all this time, Azula still hated her birthdays. For her twenty-fifth birthday, she decided to just aimlessly fly with Zenmetsu, alone.

During one of the breaks they took for Zenmetsu to rest, as Azula sat on the ground and leaned against her bison, aimlessly scratching Zenmetsu’s side, she felt a rare sense of contentment.

The next day, when they flew back to Azula and Toph’s current temporary abode, Toph shoved a package into her hands.

“No.” Azula tried to return it, but Toph blocked her.

“Just open it.” Toph sounded impatient.

Azula held the package for a long time, neither of them saying anything. But eventually, she cracked. With an internal sigh, she tore apart the rice paper wrapping—and when her fingers touched the gift inside, she gasped.

She was feeling the purest, highest-quality silk she had ever touched. Moving her hands along the cloth, she felt inlaid gems spelling out her favorite _kanji_ : ‘power.’

“This is...” Azula whispered.

“You’ve been saying you wanted a new eye covering, right?”

Silently, Azula removed her old cloth and tied the new one around her head, making sure the _kanji_ character was placed in the exact center.

“How is it?” Toph asked.

“...It’s…

“...Thanks.”

One thing she had learned from her time with Pathik: often, no word can express what you’re really thinking, or feeling.

* * *

**End of Chapter 8**  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Ursa scene is the main reason I’m taking the comics as non-canon for purposes of this fic.
> 
> Other notes: The mechanist has no official canon name, so I named him ‘Guang.’ The idea of someone giving Azula a new eye-covering cloth as a present came from my original beta, Lavanya Six.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	10. Enlightenment II

Special thanks to my previous beta Lavanya Six, and my current betas Devon and Aurelia Le!

**Timeline Reminder:** The “Enlightenment” chapters take place approximately one year after Ozai’s death.

* * *

**The Right to Rule**

An _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ fanfic

* * *

**Chapter 9**

**Enlightenment II**

* * *

Pathik insisted on changing locations before they began working on the second chakra. They were now sitting on a giant stone pillar next to a waterfall.

Azula still half-suspected he was messing with her.

“The second chakra is the Water Chakra, located at the sacrum.”

“Where?”

“The pelvis.”

“…Ah.”

“This chakra deals with pleasure and is blocked by guilt.”

_So the pleasure chakra is next to the genitals. How creative._ “I have one question, before we begin.”

“Why is pleasure blocked by guilt?” Pathik offered.

“Do you have to keep reminding me you can read my mind?”

Pathik laughed. That laugh was really starting to grate on her. As was every other part of him. “Actually, I could just guess that. In any event. First, how about you—”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to force me to have visions again.”

“Actually, I was going to have you just tell me what you feel guilty about.”

“...Oh.”

“But if you want to have more visions—”

“No no,” Azula said quickly, “your idea is perfectly fine, Guru.”

That earned her another laugh from Pathik. Bastard.

Shaking it off, Azula took a deep breath and searched through her memory.

“Well?” Pathik asked after a few minutes.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Guru. Guilt is a somewhat foreign emotion to me.”

“How’s that?”

“If you’ve read my mind, you should know. I...wasn’t exactly the nicest person in the past. I’m still not really a very nice person.”

“Hmmmm...”

_That noise..._ “What is it?”

“You seem very invested in this view of yourself as a terrible person.”

“ _Invested_?”

“Perhaps we’ll talk about that more later. If you have trouble with the concept of guilt, why don’t we start with what you blame yourself for?”

“...I guess that’s clearer,” Azula admitted.

She shifted, trying to get into a more comfortable position. This would probably take a while.

“I’ll start with my brother...”

* * *

Pathik didn’t say a word as Azula detailed how she had done her utmost to put her proverbial boot on Zuko’s neck, manipulated Mai and Ty Lee into obeying her every whim, and put her _literal_ boot into Katara’s stomach.

“But I suppose you already knew all that, since you read my mind,” Azula grumbled after she finished.

“First of all, as I said before, I’m not reading your mind; I’m seeing your spirit. I cannot look at your memories in nearly as much detail as you just gave me.”

_He_ can _look at my memories, though._

“Second, even if I _could_ look at your memories in detail, it was beneficial for you to say that much aloud.”

_Sure doesn’t feel that way._ “Now what, then?”

“Let’s examine these events more closely. Why did you do the things you did?”

“I just told you why.”

“You only talked about the circumstances,” Pathik said, sounding annoyed. “What I was asking was—”

“Yes, I know. You want to know what underlying reason there was behind all three. I was just trying to buy some time.” She leaned her head back. “What’s there to tell? I treated them like crap because I held them in contempt. It’s not complex.”

“So why did you—”

“—hold them in contempt?”

Pathik chuckled briefly. “It appears you can see my spirit as well.”

“Ha ha.” Azula was silent for a while, waiting for Pathik to say something, but he never did. Stubborn bastard. Oh well.

“Why don’t I tell you a story?” Azula finally said.

* * *

Once upon a time, there was a little girl. Innocent and pure, unsullied by the world, she played with her parents, grandfather, and older brother every day. They had much fun together, just the five of them in their tiny house.

Then one day, the little girl did a bad thing. She wandered outside.

Outside she saw an old man, sitting all by himself with a tin tray in front, a few coins scattered inside of it. The little girl’s grandfather, just as old as this man, was taken care of and loved, but this man was spat upon and kicked by passers-by.

The little girl wandered on and saw a sick man, with boils all over his body. Her older brother had looked like that once, but her parents had applied a little balm and he had gotten all better. Nobody was giving this man any balm, though. Instead, another man was slicing the boils off with a knife, making the sick man to scream out in pain each time.

The little girl wandered on and saw a sleeping man, face down on the street, rats gnawing at his flesh. She scared the rats away and tried to get the man to wake up, but he wouldn’t stir. She groaned and grunted and eventually managed to turn him over, only to see that his face had rotted and melted off.

The little girl wandered on, passing by other broken, tired, dirty, hungry men, until eventually, she saw someone different. She saw a clean, handsome, well-dressed man, wandering the city with a smile on his face. When he passed the other men, they all bowed down and lay their faces on the ground, and despite having almost nothing, they all gave an object to the clean man. He accepted all the gifts with that same smile, putting them all into a sack.

Confused, the little girl approached the clean man and asked him a question. “Who are you?”

The clean man looked down at her, still smiling. “I am a wandering monk. Who are you, my dear?”

“I’m a girl. What’s a ‘monk’?”

“A monk is a man who can commune with the spirits.”

“Is that why everyone gives you stuff?”

The clean man chuckled. “Indeed. They believe that if they gain my favor, I’ll intercede with the spirits on their behalf. Then the spirits might lift them out of their misery.”

“Will you, then?”

The clean man chuckled again. “Even the spirits can’t change fate, my dear. All our destinies are set from the moment we are born. Most of us are destined to live hard and empty lives. On the other hand, some of us,” he jiggled the sack with the gifts he was given, “are destined to receive whatever excess the empty ones happen to obtain. This allows us to live pleasant and full lives.”

The little girl didn’t know what to say. The clean man chuckled a third time at her confusion. “Don’t worry, my dear. Nobody can change fate. We can only fulfill the roles we are given.”

Her parents found the little girl afterward and took her back home, but the clean man’s words continued to ring in her ears.

She wasn’t going to become an empty one, no matter what.

* * *

There was silence for a time. Then Pathik spoke.

“As parables go, that was rather uninspired.”

“Oh?”

“An old man, a sick man, a dead man, and a wandering monk?”

Azula shrugged. “I may have read something similar to that while studying some obscure, dead religion.”

Pathik cleared his throat, loudly.

“Is something the matter?” she asked in her most polite of tones.

_The Fire Nation_ made _that religion dead_ , she was sure he wanted to say. But he didn’t. “So,” he said instead, clearly anxious to change the subject, “I believe what you were trying to say with that story was obvious enough.”

“Do tell.”

“You believed that your brother and friends were...”

“Empty ones, yes. I believed they lived empty, meaningless lives, fit only to give whatever they could to people who are actually worth something.”

“Meaning yourself.”

“Naturally.”

Pathik let out a long sigh. “I understand. But you are different now, correct?”

Azula was silent.

“Correct?”

She remained silent.

“You brought this up when I asked what you blame yourself for. That means you must have changed.”

“Yeah. I did. I mean, I obviously did. Just...not by a lot, I don’t think.”

Pathik didn’t say anything. Since he could read her mind, or spirit, or whatever, he must have known she’d go on without him saying a word. Bastard.

“I do blame myself for what I did to them. But I’m not sure it’s because I regret hurting them. I think I blame myself for losing potential allies, for losing...tools.”

Azula lay back, resting her head on the cold stone below. A long, strange sound emanated from Pathik, kind of like a ‘hmm’ but different.

They were silent for a long time. Pathik was the one who spoke first.

“Now I have a story for you, Avatar.”

* * *

Once upon a time, there was a little girl. She went too far into the ocean and drowned.

* * *

Pathik found his joke very hilarious, and demonstrated his opinion through elongated, loud, and extremely vociferous laughter.

Azula held a somewhat different opinion. “Yes, yes, very clever,” she said disdainfully.

“My apologies, Avatar,” Pathik said through his laughter, “I couldn’t resist.”

“I’m sure.”

“But there is a tale I do wish to tell.”

Azula put her elbow on the ground and lay her head on her palm. “Be my guest.” _Not like I have anything better to do_.

* * *

Once, there was a woman with five sons. She loved them all very much.

The eldest son fell in with a bad crowd, and started fighting all the time. One time the fight escalated and he ended up with a knife in his throat.

In order to make sure her second son avoided this fate, the mother didn’t allow him to have any friends. But the loneliness made him miserable and he eventually committed suicide.

In order to make sure her third son was never sad, the mother gave him everything he wanted. This made him naïve and weak, easy prey for those who would feed on others. One night he was beaten, robbed, and killed.

In order to make sure her fourth son was self-sufficient, she trained him in all the combat arts she knew. But his strength made him cocky and eager to fight others. Same as the eldest, one fight escalated and his upper leg was impaled by a sword. He bled to death soon afterward.

The mother became overwhelmed with guilt and, convinced that she only caused pain, locked herself in her room. Her youngest son died of neglect.

* * *

“Oh, you’re just a bundle of joy today, aren’t you?”

“I would appreciate you showing an emotion other than sarcasm, Avatar.”

Azula grumbled.

“I assume you understand my point?”

“No, I think you may have been too subtle. Why don’t you try hammering it home a little stronger, for the benefit of the audience?”

“No matter how much you attempt to push me away with your biting wit, Avatar, this journey is about yourself. And you are the only person you cannot run away from.”

_This guy can only speak in pretentious garbage._

“You do see my point.”

“If you feel too guilty about something, you go too far in the other direction to make up for it. Everything in moderation, etcetera. I’ve heard this kind of lecture before.”

Pathik let out an even longer and deeper sigh than the last one.

“Okay, now you’re just being dramatic,” Azula said.

“Our journey here is not about moderation, Avatar. Our goal is to eliminate your emotional muck completely, not merely to moderate it. Go deeper in your analysis. Why did the mother sink so deeply into her guilt? What did she have to gain from it?”

“ _Gain_? You’re saying people _get_ something from guilt?”

The waterfall roared as it plunged into the depths below.

“You wanted to know why pleasure is blocked by guilt,” Pathik said. “Neither pain nor misery precludes pleasure. Even if one possesses both, it is still possible to obtain happiness. However, _guilt_ causes us to dislike ourselves, to hate ourselves. If one hates himself, then he feels unworthy of pleasure; he feels pain is his just reward. Even if he becomes temporarily happy, he will feel guilt at that happiness and work to stifle it. It is a cycle one cannot escape. Only guilt makes us turn our pleasure into pain. In which case, what motivates us to feel it in the first place?”

“Maybe it’s different for you, but most people don’t need a _motivation_ to feel things.”

Pathik ignored her. “Think back to my parable. Until the end, all the mother’s sons died due to their own decisions, and yet she only blamed herself. Hating oneself is just as self-centered as loving oneself; self-hatred makes us focus on ourselves and not those around us. Through her guilt, the mother maintained the illusion that she was special. Only by overcoming this illusion, forgiving herself and thereby accepting reality, could she have saved her other sons.”

With that, Pathik finished his speech, and Azula had no idea how to respond.

“Thoughts, Avatar?”

Azula’s hand wandered to her eye socket, and she didn’t have the wherewithal to stop it from scratching. “What you’re saying makes no sense. You say guilt is self-centered, but guilt is the only thing that causes us to be moral to others. If you don’t feel guilty when you do something wrong, what’ll stop you from doing it in the future?”

“Don’t tell me you’re defending guilt now, Avatar,” Pathik said, amusement evident in his voice. “I believe you told me guilt is a foreign emotion for you?”

Seriously. Bastard. “I understand it in an academic sense and can see its objective benefits, even if I don’t experience it myself.”

“Oho. That’s some quick thinking. I’m impressed.”

_Now he’s_ trying _to piss me off_. “Thanks for the compliment. Will you address my actual argument?”

“If you wish.” Pathik made a show of thinking about it, hmming and all that, but Azula suspected he already had his riposte all lined up. “It is all well and good to learn from your mistakes. But if you sink into the swamp of guilt due to that, you limit your potential to love not only yourself, but others as well.”

“...How does _that_ follow?”

“It’s actually quite simple. If you can’t even love yourself, how can you possibly love anyone else?”

Azula opened her mouth, then closed it. Then did so again. Finally, she said, “That’s incredibly imbecilic.”

“Thank you.”

“But, look. If you never feel guilty, no matter what you do, doesn’t that _mean_ you don’t care about anybody else? I mean, if you’re just blasé about hurting people, or…”

“If you actively enjoy it?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“You are correct, Avatar. If you don’t feel guilt, you don’t love others. But if you feel guilt, you don’t love yourself, and so don’t love others.” She could almost feel his smile. “Quite a paradox, no?”

There were a number of things she wanted to tell him, but Azula managed to keep them all under her tongue. Though since Pathik could read her mind, that was probably pointless. “So what’s the solution?”

“Paradoxes don’t have solutions, Avatar. That’s why they’re paradoxes. The ordinary person must simply muddle through as best he can, feeling enough guilt to correct his conduct but not enough to be overwhelmed by self-hatred. That is where the ‘moderation’ you mentioned earlier is relevant, I suppose. But you are _not_ an ordinary person, and as I said, our journey here is not about moderation. If you wish to open your chakra, Avatar, you must _eliminate_ your guilt, and find a different reason to care about others. There is no other way.”

“But I _told_ you, I don’t—”

“—feel guilt, I know. Which brings us back full circle. Our main goal here is to find out why you’re so obsessed with thinking of yourself as a monster.”

Now _that_ shut Azula up quick.

“I can see you won’t tell me anytime soon.” Pathik was starting to sound more forceful now, even a little impatient. “We cannot move on if we do not deal with this first. Therefore...”

Azula flinched back, but it was too late. He put his finger on her forehead and she sunk into the ocean of memories.

* * *

Azula put her chin on her hands, watching the small squirrel-cat Zuko had found. It was a cute little thing, with its long fluffy tail, buck teeth, and triangular ears sticking straight up. She pet it absent-mindedly, enjoying feeling its soft fur, trying not to think about how Father had yelled at her for still only being able to bend sparks.

“ _Your brother was already learning katas at your age!”_

Furious, Azula made a spark, and it hit the squirrel-cat. The animal startled and looked about warily, trying to find out what caused it that small jolt of pain.

A smile slowly formed on Azula’s lips. _Caused it pain_. She was the one who caused it pain.

Another spark, a bigger one this time. Now the squirrel-cat decided it didn’t matter what caused the pain, it just wanted to get away. Not wanting to let it run, Azula gripped the small animal tightly with her hand.

Now the squirrel-cat was clearly in distress. It started wildly looking about for a way to escape, squeaking pathetically, clawing weakly at Azula’s hand.

Azula’s smile grew broader. Before she knew it, she was making strange movements with the hand gripping the squirrel-cat.

Slowly but surely, Azula felt her palm getting hotter. Slowly but surely, the squirrel-cat started moving more frantically, started crying more loudly, started scratching more ferociously. In order to keep it under control Azula had to add her other hand to the mix, gripping the animal’s neck and forcing it down.

The squirrel-cat’s moments of highest activity were when smoke started rising from its mouth. That only lasted for a little bit, though. Soon enough, it started moving more sluggishly, as the smoke got thicker and thicker.

When her mother entered the room, she held up the charred remains of the squirrel-cat proudly, grin still fastened to her face.

She had finally created fire.

* * *

The vision ebbed away, and the two of them entered another long bout of silence.

“I see,” Pathik eventually said.

Azula didn’t respond.

“Thinking you’re a monster isn’t how you feel guilt. It’s how you _avoid_ feeling guilt. After all, for a monster, things like that are to be expected. But if you were just another human, like everyone else—”

“Yeah, yeah, congratulations, you figured it out. You’re really brilliant, and all that.”

“It’s impossible to eliminate your guilt if you keep running from it, Avatar. You must face it head-on.”

“You’re not saying anything I didn’t already know.”

“Viewing yourself as a monster who’s nobly fighting against your true, inner nature is not ultimately much different from viewing yourself as the only worthwhile person in a world of empty—”

“I said I _know_!”

“Yes, you do. And with time, you may perhaps be able to accept your guilt naturally. But, alas, we cannot afford to leave the world absent your presence for that long. Thus, I fear some drastic measures may be required.”

“...I’m listening.”

“Forced empathy. I have the ability to make you feel all the pain you have inflicted upon others.”

Azula gaped.

“I will only do so with your permission. However, it is my opinion that it is the only way for you to confront your guilt directly.”

All the pain she had ever caused...Azula could scarcely even imagine it. She certainly didn’t _want_ to imagine it.

“Avatar?”

If she could access the Avatar State at will...if this was the only way to gain that kind of power… “Fine. Sure. Whatever. Do it.”

“Are you certain—”

“I said _do it_. Before I change my mind.”

“Alright.” And before she changed her mind, he once again put his finger to her forehead.

* * *

_It hurts_

Azula was her mother, suffering agony for hours in order to bring her into the world, all that pain compressed into a single second

_It hurts_

Azula was the squirrel-cat, insides burned to ashes in an inferno of flame, voice croaking out to

_It hurts_

Azula was her brother, every time she kicked him, every time she burned him, every time she said just the right combination of words to stab a blade into his heart more painful than any sword

_It hurts_

Azula was her father, kneeling on the ground, seeing his life’s work crumble around him, at the hands of his own flesh and blood, the person he had put so much time and energy and love into teaching everything he knew

_It hurts_

Azula was Katara, who finally found a friend her own age, a friend who didn’t care she was the daughter of the chief, a friend she did so much for, helping her with no thought for herself, until she learned that she wasn’t really a friend after all, learned while writhing on the ground with a searing pain like none she had ever felt, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the

_It hurts_

Azula was Mai and Ty Lee, her only friends when she was princess, who lived each and every day in the terror that if they displeased her, if they didn’t do exactly what she wanted, they might get beaten, they might get burned, they might die, their family might die, and there was nothing they could do

_It hurts_

Azula was a Fire Nation soldier, just trying to make enough money to support her family, when she saw the tidal wave, and then she was swept away, and thought about her children, and what would they do without her, and I don’t want to die

_It hurts!_

All the pain flowed together, and she didn’t know who she was anymore, the pain was so great it blocked out everything else, time, space, everything—

_Avatar!_

Pathik’s voice.

_Avatar! Keep a hold of yourself! Remember who you are!_

Can’t remember, don’t want to remember, don’t want to be the person who caused all this—

_You must know who you are! If you lose yourself, this is all meaningless!_

Meaning, identity, who cares about that, compared to this pain none of it matters—

_You are responsible for this pain. It is your fault. As the Avatar, you must accept that._

My fault...all of it...

_If you want to blame yourself, do so. If you want to hate yourself, do so. You have that right. But you must not lie to yourself._

I...don’t want to...

_It...hurts..._

* * *

Azula awoke slowly from the sea of pain. She was back on the stone pillar, the waterfall bellowing its endless roar beside her. Her back was sore, but she didn’t sit up.

“How are you feeling, Avatar?” Pathik asked. He did honestly sound concerned.

“I don’t know,” she said, like an imbecile.

“From what I can tell, you have opened your second chakra.”

Azula scratched at an eye socket.

“If I may ask, what method did you find to accept your guilt and move past it?”

Azula sat up, groaning as her joints creaked against each other. “I understood that I can’t change the past, only the future. I realized I didn’t want to wallow in self-pity and self-hatred forever. Something.” She grinned. “You know, maybe I was right the first time. Maybe I just naturally don’t feel much guilt in the first place.”

There was a short pause, then Pathik started laughing. After a second, Azula joined in.

“I must admit, Avatar, you are much different from everyone else I’ve ever known.”

“I appreciate the compliment.”

“Come. We must go to the site where we will open the third chakra.”

“Remind me again, why does it matter _where_ we open each chakra?”

Pathik adopted his lecturing tone. Azula could almost picture him wagging a finger at her. If she knew what he looked like. “As you should know already, location is very important in spiritual matters.”

Not for the first time, and almost certainly not for the last, Azula sighed.

* * *

**End of Chapter 9**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The “walking outside and seeing an old man, a sick man, a dead man, and a wandering monk” thing is taken from Buddhism—supposedly, Siddhartha Gautama did the same before he became the Buddha. Azula, naturally, put her own personal spin on it. Pathik’s parable is (as far as I know) my own invention.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	11. The Tales of Ba Sing Se

****Special thanks to my previous beta Lavanya Six, and my current betas Devon and Aurelia Le!

* * *

**The Right to Rule**

An _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ fanfic

* * *

“Listen, Joo Dee. Don’t get me wrong, I’d _love_ for you to follow me around and observe me for a month, but we are kind of on a deadline. So here’s the deal: you lead me to your boss, and I don’t crush you like a grape.”

The woman’s struggles vibrated down through the giant stone fist gripping her.

“I’m not exactly a patient person, Joo Dee.”

* * *

**Chapter 10**

**The Tales of Ba Sing Se**

* * *

After a surprisingly productive negotiation with Long Feng, Azula managed to get him to put the full weight of the Earth Kingdom’s military behind an assault on the Fire Nation capital. In exchange, she just had to agree not to let the city’s citizenry know anything about the war. And support him gaining full dominion over the city. And promise to get him as much money as possible from the Fire Nation after the war’s end.

Well, as long as she had a working relationship with them, one ruler was as good as another. Besides, “as much as possible” was a rather flexible phrase.

In any event, three of the four main anti-Fire Nation forces were now more or less aligned. The Southern Water Tribes, Omashu, and Ba Sing Se were prepared to launch an invasion together. Only the Northern Water Tribe remained.

Azula wanted to head out for them immediately, but the others convinced her that, since they were ahead of schedule anyway, they should spend a day in Ba Sing Se to renew their spirits and explore the city. Well, technically, they all refused to set one foot outside of the walls no matter how much Azula threatened them, but really, giving in to them was a magnanimous gesture.

It was, after all, only for one day.

* * *

**The Tale of Sokka (part 1)**

* * *

Sokka strutted the streets of Ba Sing Se with his chest out and head held high.

He had first joined Azula’s quest in order to see the world. But for the most part, they were too busy dashing from one place to another for him to be able to sit back and take in the view. Plus they spent most of their time camping out, and after a while, each grassy hill started looking a lot like the last grassy hill.

The fact that he was the weakest member of the party in combat didn’t exactly help matters.

But now! Now they were in Ba Sing Se, the largest city in the world! Sokka was finally back in his element. He was going to take advantage of this opportunity to finally have a solo adventure. And maybe meet a few girls while he was at it.

As if in response to his resolution, Sokka rounded a corner and immediately saw a gaggle of high-class Ba Sing Se girls talking to each other and giggling. Figuring that in such a big group, there was a good chance at least one of them would be interested in him, Sokka put on a confident air and swaggered over to them.

“Hey, ladies. I saw you looking at me.” The girls giggled even louder, which was probably a good sign. “I know I must be very... _exotic_ ,” he intoned, rubbing his chin, “so what do you say we go somewhere so I can tell you about...where I’m from?”

“Sorry, but I’m not interested in hearing about your swamp,” one of them said, and they all broke out into raucous laughter. They barreled past him before he could respond. Sokka could hear whispers of “Did you see the way he’s _dressed_?” and “They let _anyone_ into the Upper Ring these days, don’t they?”

Sokka stood in the middle of the street for a few seconds afterward, then slapped himself on the cheek. He was just unlucky, that’s all. In fact, now that he’d used up his poor luck for the day, the rest of his adventure should go great!

For the next few hours, he found himself, in succession: booed by spectators when he tried performing with his boomerang, getting food poisoning from a meal he had never heard of but ordered “to see what it was like,” chased by a man for accidentally stumbling onto his property while exploring, and turned down by more girls than he could count (with words that ranged from polite to heart-piercing).

He was finding it a bit hard—though not impossible!—to hold onto his natural optimism.

By the end of the afternoon, Sokka had somehow managed to wander into the Lower Ring. Tired but not hungry, he entered a tea shop and ordered a cup.

In the middle of drinking what he felt was some rather bland tea, he heard a voice next to him say, “Well, you look rather ragged.”

Sokka turned to see a pretty Earth Kingdom girl sitting next to him, with pigtails, green eyes, and some fairly large...other features. She was smiling.

He pinched himself in the arm and yelped in pain. However, instead of disappearing like an illusion should, the girl merely giggled and pointed at his cup of half-finished tea. “If you’re looking for refreshment, there are few worse options than Pao’s tea, you know.”

He looked at his cup and pushed it around a little with his fingers, still not quite believing what was happening. “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly an expert on tea, so.”

“You’re certainly a barrel of sunshine.”

Sokka sighed. “Sorry. I’ve just had a bad day.”

He looked at the girl out of the corner of his eye. She had her elbow on the table and was resting her head on her palm, staring at him. His face got a lot hotter than the cooling tea in his hands. “Mm,” the girl said, “I’ve had those.” She started tapping her fingers on the table. Sokka’s throat suddenly became extremely dry, and he downed the rest of the tea in one gulp. The girl giggled. “Finished?”

Sokka wiped the tea remnants from his mouth. “I guess.”

“Want to hang out with me for a bit?”

In his mind, Sokka saw himself smile suavely, say “But of course, my lady” in a silvery voice, take her hand, and lead her out of the building. In reality, Sokka stuttered for a bit before saying “Sure” in a high, squeaky voice.

The girl giggled again. “Let’s go, then.” She stood up, then as a seeming afterthought, gave him a short bow. “Name’s Jin, by the way.”

Sokka matched the bow awkwardly. “Sokka.”

* * *

**The Tale of Kalu**

* * *

The man screamed himself hoarse and writhed against his bindings as the heated metal was pressed to his skin.

Kalu had been curious about Earth Kingdom medicinal practices, so early in the morning he went to the Ba Sing Se General Hospital. One of the doctors there agreed to take Kalu along on his rounds, while exclaiming excitedly about the things he had heard regarding waterbending doctors and how much he was looking forward to comparing notes.

This patient had suffered a serious wound during a robbery and was at risk of bleeding out. Still, Kalu could’ve closed the wound relatively painlessly and perhaps even have returned him to fighting shape after a few months. The Earth Kingdom method of treatment, on the other hand, was...well.

“That should do it,” the doctor said after his patient’s cries had subsided. “You’ll stay here for the next few days so I can check up on you.” With that, he left and approached Kalu, his eyes sparkling. “So? What would you have done?”

The patient’s continuing whimpers blended into the background noise of the hospital. “I probably could’ve closed that wound just with waterbending.”

“Really? That’s _fascinating_. How exactly does that work?”

“I don’t know much about the theory, honestly,” Kalu lied. He would’ve happily discussed the topic for hours with another waterbender, but he wasn’t going to lecture someone on the basics during his vacation. At least, not without getting paid, and that didn’t seem to be in the offing.

“Hm. Well, if you know someone who does, send him my way. Who knows, maybe we can even set up a summit one day! Learn from each other, yeah?” He slapped Kalu on the back.

Burning a wound shut. Feeding plants to a boy with foamy urine. Sticking a bunch of needles into a woman to cure pain. He couldn’t think of a single thing he had seen here that he _wanted_ to learn. “That sounds like a fantastic idea,” he said.

After he finally escaped from the hospital and cleansed his soul with food, Kalu was left with no real plan for the rest of the day, so he decided to just take off in a random direction and enjoy the city’s sights. In retrospect, this is what he should’ve done from the beginning. Following his whims was what he did best.

He was jolted out of his daydreaming when a man roughly shoved him aside, almost causing him to fall over. Annoyed, he opened his mouth to berate the man when he heard a woman shout, “Someone stop him! He stole my bag!”

Kalu looked around. This was a small street, and no one else was around.

He sighed, casually drew his knife, then tossed it at the retreating figure. Kalu was far from an expert knife thrower, but the thief was stupidly running in a straight line, so it was child’s play to hit him.

Kalu didn’t enjoy the scream of pain, but he didn’t _not_ enjoy it, either.

Humming to himself, Kalu strode over to the thief, who was still recovering from the shock of sudden pain. He was in the process of standing up when Kalu reached him.

“You…you could’ve killed me!” the man gasped.

“Only if I had hit you in the throat,” Kalu said dismissively. “And that was very unlikely.” He put his foot on the thief’s back, shoving him back to the ground, and pulled out the knife with a _squelch_ , causing another scream of pain. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. It’s not even that deep.” While he bent some water into the thief’s wound with one hand, his other withdrew the woman’s purse from the man’s grip.

“Thank you so much, sir!” Kalu looked back and saw the woman from before, face filled with gratitude. “How can I _ever_ repay you?”

Hmm...she was blushing now, and not quite meeting his eyes. Not just gratitude, then. She clearly had a preferred method of repayment in mind already.

With a sly smile, Kalu reached into her bag and pulled out a couple of silver coins. “This is my usual fee for treating a battle wound. It’ll be sufficient.”

The woman, clearly confused, merely nodded. Kalu gave her a perfect bow, stuck the coins into his pocket, finished healing the thief’s wound, and strolled away while humming to himself again. This would pay for a very nice dinner tonight.

After a few seconds, as an afterthought, he called out over his shoulder, “You should probably deliver that man to the proper authorities.”

* * *

**The Tale of Naya**

* * *

Naya sighed deeply as she lay down in the tub, savoring the cold water. Not for the first time, her thoughts drifted to the South Pole.

Her husband, like most adults in Hakoda’s tribe, was out scouting most of the year. Her son, now ten years old, had shown a talent for waterbending at an early age and so spent most of his time with the other apprentices. Because of that, when she received her mission to train the Avatar and escort her around the world, she had assumed it wouldn’t be so bad to be away from her family.

She was wrong. Being an ocean away was a huge difference. It wasn’t just that she had even less chance to see them. If something happened to either of them, she wouldn’t know for months. Even now they could be injured, or dead.

It was the not knowing that drove her insane. She was prepared for death; every Southern Water Tribesperson was. But she couldn’t handle not knowing.

To be honest, though, that wasn’t even the worst of it. The worst was the fact that she left the only country she had ever known, the only people she had ever known, and was now stuck traipsing around foreign lands where the only people she knew, she hated.

Naya was a waterbender of the South. She would fulfill her duty. Even if she hated it every step of the way.

She internally smacked herself when she left the baths. Today was supposed to be a day of relaxation, not a day to remember all the things she hated about her life. She started walking the streets of the Upper Ring randomly, hoping something would catch her eye.

And something did, of a sort. A child’s wails reached her ears, and curious, Naya followed the sound. They belonged to a girl who looked no older than seven, and she was bawling in the middle of the street. The other Earth Kingdom citizens weren’t even looking at her as they passed by.

Annoyed, she grabbed the arm of the man closest to her. “Why is everyone ignoring that child?”

The man looked at Naya like she was crazy. “Let sleeping lion-dogs lie, lady.” He yanked his arm out of her grasp and continued walking.

She spared him a brief disdainful glare, then looked back at the girl. Naya frowned. In the South, a young child wouldn’t just be ignored like this. Then again, in the South, everyone knew everyone else.

Cautiously, she approached the girl and put a hand on her shoulder. “Hello. I’m Naya. Are you lost?”

The girl just wailed some more, not even looking at her.

Naya frowned some more. She wasn’t good with kids. Her own son had been mostly raised by his grandparents while she and her husband were off protecting the tribe. She had never really learned how to interact with children. “Um...where do you live?”

If anything, the girl started crying even louder. And people were staring at them now.

Naya felt a sudden urge to smack the child, but fought it down. That would not be appropriate to do with a stranger. She tried to think of a way to make the girl shut up and listen to her, but her mind was coming up with nothing.

Finally, her frustration boiled over, and she just bent some water into the girl’s face. Which got her attention, at least. Naya asked, “Did you get separated from your parents?”

The girl nodded. Tears were pouring from her eyes, adding to the water already on her face. “I can’t find my mommy.”

“Why don’t you tell me where your house is? We can go there together.”

The girl shook her head so quickly she splashed Naya with water and tears. “She won’t be there.”

Naya blinked. “Okay...where would she be, then?”

The girl reached into her pocket and fished out a piece of paper, worn and smudged so much it was almost impossible to read. Squinting, Naya could barely make out the address written on it.

She led the girl, Hua, who turned out to be six years old, to the nearest guard outpost. Along the way, the girl explained, through tears, that she usually met her mother at that address, but she got lost along the way this time and couldn’t figure out where to go. Naya thought it was strange that a parent would let their small child walk around such a big city alone, but maybe that was one of the facets of parenting she’d never learned.

When she arrived at the outpost, she displayed the badge Long Feng had given all of them after his negotiation with the Avatar. The badge not only functioned as a pass to give them free reign in the city, but it also convinced people to do what you wanted. Nobody wanted to displease a person who had Long Feng’s favor.

When the guard read the address, he looked at the two of them with an odd expression, but gave them easy-to-follow directions, and soon they were off.

Talking to Hua was an interesting experience. The girl certainly had thoughts and could carry on a decent conversation, but her opinions and worldview were almost incomprehensible to Naya. For example, despite being miserable to the point of completely shutting out the world just a few minutes ago, she was now animatedly discussing her dolls and other playthings with a woman she had just met.

It made Naya a little jealous, to be honest. Hua seemed to live solely in the present, while she spent so much of her time in the past.

Eventually, they reached the end of the guard’s instructions. But when they turned the corner and got a view of the destination, Naya was shocked at what she saw.

_Ba Sing Se_

_Upper Ring Cemetery_

Naya gaped. She looked at Hua, who suddenly had a very determined look on her little face as she walked deliberately to the cemetery’s gate. The man there waved her in as soon as he saw her, but hesitated when Naya fumbled in her robes and pulled out her pass, until Hua said, “Let her in too, please.”

Once inside, Naya followed Hua past the rows of headstones, the little girl looking at each one before moving on.

Naya had known the Earth Kingdom buried their dead. She had never really understood why; indeed, she had felt it a bit offensive—it was like they valued the corpse over the spirit. When she had first seen this city, with its walls dividing everything, she had formed this theory: Earth Kingdomers are so obsessed with keeping everyone separate they even force their dead into little individuated dwellings.

Eventually, Hua stopped at a stone and knelt down in front of it. Naya looked at its inscription. All it had was a name: _Lian Zhang_.

The two of them stayed like that for a while, Hua kneeling, Naya standing. It wasn’t until the sun started retreating into the western mountains that Hua finally rose to her feet.

Naya put an arm around the girl’s shoulder. She didn’t resist, and they walked out of the cemetery together.

“Where do you live?” Naya asked.

“With my uncle.”

“Shall I take you to his house?”

Hua nodded.

As they walked home in silence, Naya kept her face impassive. But her thoughts were a raging blizzard.

Like every other Southern Water Tribesperson, she was prepared for death. Her own father had died when she was young, though not as young as Hua. Death was tragic, but it was also inevitable, and Naya had never seen the need to mourn it. The important thing was that the tribe lived on.

And yet, at that moment, she would have sacrificed almost anything to give Hua’s mother back to her.

At the door to her uncle’s house, Naya and Hua hugged and said goodbye. She watched the girl close the door with an odd mixture of emotions.

She never did learn how Hua’s parents died.

* * *

**The Tale of Toph**

* * *

Toph hated Ba Sing Se. All the rules and regulations and boundaries made her feel like she was back at her parents’ house. Luckily, Long Feng’s pass let her enter the Middle and Lower Rings, where people understood Toph’s philosophy: I don’t bother you, you don’t bother me.

Of course, being a young blind girl walking alone and wearing expensive clothes did attract the _fun_ kind of attention. People attempted to rob her no less than three times that morning. Needless to say, they very much regretted it (though Toph didn’t).

Early in the afternoon, she was walking down a side alley, taking in all the vibrations and noises from the city, when a group of children younger than her ran up and surrounded her.

“What’s this?” she asked, smiling. “You guys want a fight?”

“That depends on how you answer us,” one of them said smugly.

His attitude almost made her upend the lot of them, but she would rather trade some trash-talk first. “Well, what are you waiting for? Ask away.”

The same boy, evidently their leader, spoke again. “Are you the one who’s been going around beating up thieves with earthbending?”

“Word travels around fast in this town,” Toph replied.

“Want to give us a demonstration?”

She stomped, and a huge section of ground behind her rose up to the ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s of the kids. It was a rather basic move, but it looked impressive.

Not to the leader, though, because he just scoffed. “Any idiot with brute strength can do that.”

Toph raised an eyebrow. With another stomp, she sent the mass of rock crashing to the ground. Then, silently, she stuck her hand into the ground beneath her and raised it up, taking a mound of earth with it. Very deliberately, she made motions with her other hand, forming the earth into the shape of a clenched fist. As a finishing touch, she even made the rock-hand open and close.

“If you know about earthbending,” she said, “you should know how difficult _that_ trick is.”

When the leader boy spoke next, he made a lot of effort to sound calm, but his heart was beating as fast as a rabbit-fox. “Not bad, I suppose.”

Toph sneered, then replaced the earth, bending it into the shape that fit the hole. “So what do you want with me, then?”

“My name’s Peng,” the boy replied. “My gang got into a fight with our rivals a few days ago, and...we kind of lost. We want to hire you so we can get revenge.”

“What’s in it for me?” she asked, tilting her head.

“We can pay you three—”

Toph laughed. “I have more than enough money, trust me. Try again.”

That seemed to throw Peng off, but to his credit, he recovered quickly. “You’re new here, right? We’ll take you in.”

She considered telling him she was going to leave tomorrow, but decided against it. “Sorry, not interested.”

“Come on!” Peng was sounding desperate now. “You’ve gotta want _something_!”

Toph made a show of thinking deeply, then shrugged. “Whatever. I’m always up for a fight.” _Not like I have anything better to do._

She did grin at the cheers that remark got.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the hideout of Peng’s rival gang. “We’re here to get revenge for last time, Ping!” he shouted.

It didn’t take long for a bunch of kids to file out of the small building. One of them, presumably Ping, stepped forward. “What makes you think this’ll end any different?” Ping said. From his voice, Toph guessed he was a few years older than Peng.

“We’ve got a secret weapon this time!” Peng stated triumphantly. The others stepped back to reveal her.

Ping laughed. “So you ran to get help from a girl, Peng? What’re you gonna do next, cry to our mother?”

“You shut up!” Peng shouted, sounding quite embarrassed. Toph was enjoying the back-and-forth, until she realized Ping had used an odd word choice. _Our_ mother?

“Aww, what’s the matter? Why don’t you go run behind your girlfriend’s skirt, _baby_ brother?” All the kids in Ping’s gang laughed, while the kids in Peng’s gang hurled insults. Toph herself, on the other hand, was frowning, deep in thought.

“I’ll make you eat those words!” Peng finally said. “Go get them, earthbender! We’ve got your back!”

Toph sighed. “You guys are all idiots.” With a stomp and a hand motion, she created a wave in the earth around her and spread it out in all directions, sending everyone else flying.

Except, to her surprise, it wasn’t everyone. The underlings fell into a heap, but both Peng and Ping were unaffected. They had stopped the rock wave with earthbending before it reached them.

_Now this is getting interesting_. A plan soon formed in Toph’s mind.

“Hey! Why’d you attack us, too!?” Peng sounded betrayed. Which he was, to be fair.

“I’m going to make you pay for messing with my gang, girl.” Ping just sounded angry.

Toph smiled broadly. “Let’s get this party started, then.”

Both boys drew up masses of stone and sent them flying at her, again and again. Each time, she deflected them with a dismissive gesture. Several times, she tried to knock them off their feet by shifting the ground from under them, but they managed to keep their balance.

“So you’re aware of the first rule of earthbending,” Toph mused aloud. “Always keep your feet on the ground.”

“You know,” Ping said, “that arrogant attitude of yours is really starting to piss me off.” Peng just grunted. Their underlings were starting to stand up now, but none of them dared to interfere in the benders’ fight.

The two brothers started stepping up and varying their attacks. As Ping sent a rock at her head, Peng tried to encase her feet in stone. As Peng fired volleys at her, Ping covered his arms in earth and rushed at her. Toph was still able to counter their moves, but now she was actually having to exert some effort.

As the boys stepped up their attacks even more, Toph was tempted to give up her plan. After all, she had no reason to care about these kids. But out of stubbornness or whatever, she stuck to it.

Finally, her moment came. The two brothers combined their efforts to raise a giant stone slab out of the ground, and sent it hurtling toward her at high speed. Toph planted her feet and punched the slab with both fists, making it explode, while at the same time bending the ground she was standing on, sending her flying backward. She gave a nice, loud scream for good measure.

Cautiously, the other kids started to gather around her prone body. After half a minute passed and she didn’t move, however, they seemed to consider the fight won, and started cheering.

Toph waited a suitable length of time, then stood up slowly.

“Don’t feel so tough now, do you, girl?” Ping said smugly.

“That’s what you get when you mess with us!” Peng added.

A smile flickered across Toph’s lips at that last word, but she quickly suppressed it. “Don’t get too cocky, boys. I would’ve won if it had been one-on-one.”

She was slightly concerned she was laying it on a bit too thick, but it turned out she needn’t have worried. “Sorry, girl,” Ping said, “but the only one who gets to mess with my little brother is me. You fight with him, you fight with me too.”

“And the loser doesn’t get to make excuses,” Peng said.

Toph sighed, long and melodramatically. “I suppose you’re right.”

“You bet we are!”

“Now get out of our territory!”

Toph did her best to look tired and defeated as she walked away, to jeers and insults from all the other kids. As she walked away, though, she started giggling, then laughing. Her plan went off without a hitch. That stupid Oma and Shu story was about how people would only get along if you terrified them, but she sure showed them. Even Azula would be proud. Maybe.

Though losing a fight, even on purpose, really grated. Toph set out to see if there was some sort of dojo she could crash.

* * *

**The Tale of Sokka (part 2)**

* * *

After telling Jin he was a new arrival—not technically a lie, even though he did heavily imply that he was a refugee like her—she offered to give Sokka a tour of the Lower Ring. While he wasn’t particularly intrigued by that prospect at first, he had to admit that the seedy underbelly of Ba Sing Se did take on a new look through Jin’s eyes. As she excitedly pointed out the good and bad restaurants and bars, the store not-so-secretly controlled by a criminal gang, the empty lots kids gathered at to play makeshift games, and countless other places, the slums and decrepit buildings started to attain an odd sort of dignity. It might be a dirty, broken-down armpit of the city, but to countless numbers of people, it was home.

As the two of them were lounging on a park bench, exchanging stories about their respective journeys to Ba Sing Se (Sokka, again, only lying by omission), an angry voice suddenly interrupted them. “Jin! What are you doing?!”

Sokka looked at her, confused. Jin’s face was contorted into a grimace. “My boyfriend,” she muttered.

“You have a _boyfriend_!?”

Jin didn’t have the chance to respond before the boyfriend in question approached them. He didn’t look much older than Sokka, but he was a lot bigger—at least a head taller, and far more muscular. Sokka gulped.

“What are you doing, Jin?” the boyfriend repeated, in a voice that was less loud yet, somehow, even angrier.

“None of your business, Chen,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Are you saying it’s none of my business that my girlfriend is having a date with another man!?”

“Hey!” Sokka said, rising to his feet. “If the lady says it’s not your business, it’s not your business.”

Chen faced him, and Sokka involuntary shrank back a bit when he saw Chen’s extremely angry face. “You shut up,” Chen growled. “I’ll deal with you later.”

“You won’t be _dealing with_ anyone, Chen!” Jin was standing up too, now, and she sounded as angry as her boyfriend.

Chen turned back to her. “I went to your place hours ago, and your parents told me you had gone out for a quick cup of tea. I wait for an hour, go out looking for you, and find you running around with some village hick!?”

“Who are you calling a hick!” Sokka shouted, but he was ignored by the other two.

“So you were the one waiting this time, Chen? How’d it feel?”

“Don’t you change the subject here.”

“That is _exactly_ the subject! The only time you ever show you care about me is when you’re screaming at someone for coming near me!”

“So now it’s bad for me to be worried about other guys hitting on my girlfriend?”

“You don’t treat me like a girlfriend, you treat me like your favorite shirt!”

Sokka became increasingly uncomfortable as their argument went on, each listing in great detail what they didn’t like about the other. He was backing away slowly when Chen roughly grabbed Jin’s wrist.

“Come on, Jin, we’re leaving,” he said, turning around.

“Let go of me.”

“I _said_ , we’re leaving.”

“And I said, let go—”

“You shut up!” Chen whirled to face her, and while Sokka didn’t know what he was about to do, he didn’t intend to find out. He tackled Chen and pinned him to the ground.

“You stay out of this, village boy!” Chen roared, shoving Sokka off of him. Sokka slid a few feet before pulling himself to a stop, taking out his boomerang—and receiving a foot in the chest, which sent him crashing into the remains of a building.

_Idiot_ , Sokka thought hazily, _should’ve used the boomerang first instead of tackling him._ Sokka had ignored Father’s first rule of combat, remain calm at all times, and was paying for it. His stomach burned—Chen had kicked him hard—and the rest of his body was severely aching from the impact.

As the world started coming into focus again, he saw Chen advancing on him, cracking his knuckles. Sokka hastily searched for his boomerang, only to see it lying on the ground where Chen had kicked him.

He hadn’t even been able to keep hold of his weapon.

_I really am a failure._

But before Chen could reach him, Jin stepped in between the two of them, arms outstretched.

“What are you doing, Jin?” Chen asked.

“You’ve done enough, Chen. Now leave him alone.”

“Or what?”

“You know the friends my father has,” Jin said, her tone more serious than Sokka had ever heard from her.

Chen gaped. “You’d go that far to protect this—”

“Leave. Him. Alone.”

Chen looked completely disgusted. “Fine. Have it your way. We’re through. And remember, girl, I know some people too. If I were you, I’d watch my back from now on.” With that, he turned around and walked away.

Soon after he was out of sight, Jin rushed over and helped Sokka stand up. He was ashamed at needing her assistance, especially since she had just saved his ass, but he bowed to necessity. “How do you feel?” she asked, sounding greatly worried.

Sokka chuckled meekly. “What do you think?”

Jin lowered her eyes. “Sorry.”

He felt bad. “No, sorry, it’s okay. I feel like crap, but I’ve had worse. I’ll be better in no time.” That, at least, caused a small smile to appear on Jin’s face. Sokka felt a bit better. “What about you?” he asked. “Is Chen really going to—”

“Hah.” Jin shook her head. “I don’t think so. He was just upset. He’s normally a pretty decent guy, you know, it’s just...” she sighed. “Nowadays, we just bring out the worst in each other, I guess.”

Sokka didn’t really understand, but he nodded anyway.

“I guess I should take you home. Where do you live?”

Sokka tried to prevent his growing panic from showing. If he told her he lived in the Upper Ring, she’d know he wasn’t really a refugee. “I think I can get back by myself, thanks.”

“It’s really no big deal—”

“I said I’ll be fine!” That came out much harsher than he had intended, but he couldn’t take it back now. His stomach sunk into his shoes when he saw Jin’s expression.

“Fine, then,” she said emotionlessly. “I guess I’ll head home.”

_It’s easier this way_ , Sokka told himself as she turned around and walked away. _I mean, I just met her today, by chance, her boyfriend beat me up, and I’ll be leaving tomorrow anyway. All I have to do is stay silent, and it’ll be easier for..._

“Wait!” he called out right before she turned the corner.

Jin stopped, but didn’t respond or turn around.

“I’m sorry,” Sokka said. “I’d really appreciate it if you could help me get home.”

She didn’t do anything for a few seconds. But eventually, she turned back around and nodded.

Jin half-supported him as they walked. The only time either of them spoke was when Sokka gave one or two-word directions. However, she became increasingly confused as he led them closer and closer to the gate separating the Lower and Middle Rings.

Finally, when it became clear they were heading for the gate, Jin said something. “Where are we going?” she whispered loudly.

“To the gate.”

“But—” She was cut off when Sokka fished in his clothing and pulled out the pass Long Feng had given them. When she saw it, Jin’s eyes grew wide.

The guard at the gate stared at them suspiciously, but when he saw the pass, he quickly made his expression neutral again, nodded, and earthbent the gate open. He technically wasn’t supposed to let Jin in too, but he didn’t say anything when they both passed through. Another benefit of Long Feng’s pass: nobody who saw it wanted to upset you.

As the two of them walked through the Middle Ring, Sokka recovered enough that he could walk without any support, and gave Jin a short account of his _unabridged_ journey to the city. Even sticking only to the essentials, and leaving out matters of sensitive military importance, they were in the Upper Ring and almost at their guest house before Sokka finished.

Jin shook her head in amazement. “Honestly, it’s kind of hard to believe you.”

Sokka nodded, unsure of what to say.

Suddenly, though, her face brightened and she grinned. “But I did think you were a little too dark for it to be just a tan.”

They laughed as they finally arrived at the guest house.

At the doorway, they stopped and looked at each other.

“So...this is it for tonight, huh?” Jin asked, nervously.

Sokka nodded.

“Um, how will I get back to the Lower Ring?”

Sokka internally smacked himself. He hadn’t thought of that. “I guess Kalu can take you,” he said after a few seconds of frantic thought. “He should...understand.”

Jin looked like she wanted to say something, but didn’t know what. Or maybe that was Sokka himself. Either way, they stared at each other for a moment, then he turned to put a hand on the doorknob.

“Um,” she said.

Sokka paused.

“So...how long will you be in Ba Sing Se?”

“...I leave tomorrow.”

“...Oh.”

“Yeah.”

They looked at each other again. Sokka knew there was something he should be doing right now. But he was tired, and injured.

And he didn’t want to become attached to a girl he probably wouldn’t ever see again.

“Thanks for helping me get home,” he said awkwardly.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, equally awkwardly.

“...See you.”

Without looking back, he opened the door and entered the house.

Sokka was already asleep when Kalu returned from escorting Jin back to the Lower Ring. But for the next month, not a day went by that he didn’t make fun of Sokka for not taking an opportunity when it was gift-wrapped for him.

* * *

**The Tale of Azula**

* * *

Azula spent the day practicing her bending.

* * *

**The Tale of Mongke**

* * *

“ _Why is your final sibling in Ba Sing Se? Isn’t that the city your family defected from?”_

_Otori shrugged. “We all hate our parents. I guess we each rebelled in different ways. I became a thief. Jun joined the army. Hiro and Hina became kabuki actors. And Suzue went back to Ba Sing Se.”_

“ _Are you sure she’ll be willing to join us?”_

_Otori grinned. “Don’t worry. She doesn’t have any loyalty to the Earth Kingdom. I guarantee that.”_

“ _How do you suggest we get into and out of the city?”_

_Otori took out a knife and tossed it into the air repeatedly. “I’ll just steal ferry tickets for us. To get out, we’ll take some soldier outfits. Soldiers go into and out all the time. Easy peasy.” He must have looked skeptical, because she tilted her head, grinned even more widely, and said, “You won’t regret this. Trust me.”_

But Mongke was already regretting it as he walked through the dingy, decrepit streets of Ba Sing Se’s Lower Ring, thinking of all the ways Otori’s plan could go wrong. He had heard very bad things about the ways this city dealt with criminals.

“Alright, this should be it,” Otori said. She had asked around for a giant, muscular woman, and they were given directions to this apartment building made of rotting, moldy wood. Unfortunately, they had no idea which apartment she—

“Hey!” Otori shouted. “Suzue! It’s Otori! Come on down!”

“What are you doing!?” Mongke whispered fiercely. “We’re infiltrating—”

“Suzueeee!”

Mongke looked around wildly, preparing for an incoming attack. A number of people, on the street and in the building, were now staring at them, but none of them seemed about to attack them. Yet.

“Suzue! I’m going to keep shouting until you come see me! Suzu—”

The front door to the building slammed open, and a large figure stood inside it.

Otori had described her as giant and muscular; if anything, that was an understatement. She was so large she didn’t even fit inside the doorframe; she was almost forced to bow in order to exit the building. Her black sleeveless shirt and short pants revealed muscles as big as any bodybuilder Mongke had ever seen. Her bare feet clung to the dirt, and her dark, narrow eyes were looking at him impassively. Her hair hung back in a short ponytail.

“Hey, Suzue!” Otori waved. “I came to visit. How’ve you been?”

Suzue turned around and re-entered the building.

“Alright,” Otori said, grabbing his wrist, “we’re following her to her room.”

“Hey!” Mongke said, feeling a vague embarrassment, “are you sure she wants to—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Trust me.” He was nowhere near convinced, but Suzue didn’t complain as Otori dragged him after her, so he decided to trust her for now. Besides, there was no way he was going to give up on Suzue this easily after making all this effort to come here. The three of them walked up several flights of stairs and across several halls until Suzue entered a room.

The room was bare. _Completely_ bare. No furniture, no food. The only thing in the room apart from its moldy wooden walls, floor, and ceiling was one set of black clothing piled in a corner. Suzue walked to the opposite side and sat down, staring out the window. With nothing better to do, Mongke and Otori sat behind her.

Nobody spoke for a few minutes.

“Was she always like this?” Mongke whispered to Otori.

“First, no need to whisper. She doesn’t care,” Otori said in a normal tone of voice, jabbing her thumb at Suzue. “Second, yeah. Pretty much.”

Mongke glanced at Suzue, but she was still just looking out the window, not saying anything.

“Anyway. Nice to see you again, Suzue. I joined a mercenary group. This guy’s Mongke. He’s technically the leader. I’m pretty much the real leader though.”

He stared daggers at her. She smiled back innocently. Well, not really; Otori probably couldn’t look innocent if her life depended on it.

“Being a mercenary pays a lot of money. You get to fight people a lot. It’s basically the perfect job. Jun, Hiro, and Hina are with us too. We all realized you were right and ditched our parents. So. Want in?”

“Um, wait,” Mongke said. He gulped. Suzue was still just sitting there, but somehow she seemed to radiate danger, even moreso than Otori did. “Suzue. If you don’t mind my asking, why are you here in Ba Sing Se? What do you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Huh?”

“I do nothing.” Suzue’s voice was low and rumbling; Mongke couldn’t help but think of dragons. “I’m here because nobody bothers me.”

“You do...nothing?” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Otori grinning at him. “Then how do you make money?”

“I don’t.”

“But...then how do you get food?”

“I don’t.”

Otori was grinning so much it looked like her face was about to split. He was half-convinced they were screwing with him. “Explain,” he whispered to Otori.

“Suzue was the first of us to leave home,” Otori said, not whispering. Suzue showed no reaction. “Years passed. Nobody heard hide nor hair. We all thought she was dead. Then we got a letter.” She stood up and started twirling a knife. “Your family’s peasants, right? How much did you learn about the Avatar?”

He was a bit startled by the change in subject, but managed to hide it. “They can bend all the elements. They reincarnate. Um...something about spirits? To be honest I never really cared.”

“The one benefit of a noble family. They have money to hire the best tutors.” Now she was twirling knives in both hands. “The Avatar is the fusion of a human and a spirit. That’s the source of their power. And so is Suzue.”

“What!?” He stared at Suzue, his apprehension steadily growing.

“Yup. She didn’t tell us how or why.” Otori looked at Suzue, but no explanation seemed to be forthcoming. She shrugged, knives still twirling. “But as a result, she doesn’t need food or water. She doesn’t sleep. And her body’s really tough. Or so the letter said. Mind if I test it out?”

Suzue remained silent (of course), which Otori seemed to take as permission as she sauntered toward her sister. Then she raised a knife, and before Mongke could stop her plunged it into Suzue’s neck—

And it snapped in half. Mongke yelped and covered his face, but luckily the blade didn’t hit him. When he removed his arms, he didn’t see a single mark on Suzue’s skin. Otori tossed the broken knife in front of him, giggling like a maniac. Which she was.

“See, Mongke?” she said when she stopped laughing, wiping tears from her eyes. “I was right, right? You don’t regret coming here.”

Mongke stared at Suzue, and remembered something. When he was young, he had wanted more than anything to get away from the boring, meaningless lives of the peasantry. He had begged an old man in the village to teach him letters and devoured every book he could find, as that was the only thing that gave him any emotional reaction at all. One of the particularly interesting books was about emotions themselves, and there was a chapter on what it called the _sublime_. It went something like, people feel the sublime when something causes so much astonishment, fear, or wonder that your entire mind is filled with it so you can think of nothing else.

Most of his emotions were dull and faded, as if he were looking at them through a small window or keyhole. But looking at Suzue, this apparent spirit/human hybrid whose skin can break knives, for the first time he thought that maybe he was actually capable of feeling.

“Well, Suzue?” Otori said. “You up for joining us?”

Finally, Suzue turned away from the window. She looked straight at Mongke, her stare boring holes into his skull.

“Nothing in this world matters,” she said. Then she faced Otori, and her expression softened, just a little. “But I am curious about how everyone’s doing.”

Otori jabbed her in the stomach with her elbow, and grinned at Mongke. “She doesn’t look it, but she’s a softy at heart. The opposite of me, really.” She giggled like a maniac again, and Mongke felt a smile creep to his lips too.

He had once wanted to be a scholar, he remembered. Somewhere along the way, he’d forgotten that. But with this new team, he might be able to make enough money to retire soon, and he’d be able to finally pursue that old dream.

First things first, though. This assignment to Admiral Zhao was the best one he’d ever gotten. If they impressed him, they’d be set.

As the three of them walked out of the building and prepared to ambush some Earth Kingdom soldiers and steal their outfits, for some reason Mongke kept thinking of the sensation when Otori grabbed his wrist.

* * *

**End Chapter 10**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bit about the “sublime” is a (very rough) summary of what Edmund Burke says in his book A Philosophical Inquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful.
> 
> This was one of my favorite episodes of the original series, and I hope I did it justice here.


	12. The Art of Compromise

Special thanks to my previous beta Lavanya Six, and my current betas Devon and Aurelia Le!

**Timeline Note:** This chapter takes place approximately 15 years after the death of Ozai.

* * *

**The Right to Rule**

An _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ fanfic

* * *

**Chapter 11**

**The Art of Compromise**

* * *

So. The Southern Water Tribes.

Centuries ago, the North united into a single tribe and started to put its thumb upon the wheel of global politics. The South never got that far. Whenever a Chieftain was about to gain the power necessary to make everyone else bow their heads, the rest of the tribes would ally against them, or an underling would start a civil war and break off. Hakoda’s tribe didn’t even have a tenth of the South’s total population, and already there were grumblings.

If Hatsuna had had enough time, she might have been able to mold a proper country out of the region. In four years, the last water Avatar had managed to ally the warring tribes for a century in order to fight the Fire Nation. But with the War over and peace returned, they remembered that they actually hated each other.

Now, in itself this was no major concern. If Aang was to be believed, the tribes were generally small enough, and their conflicts petty enough, that Avatars rarely felt the need to intervene. But Hatsuna hadn’t just allied the tribes together; she had fashioned them into guerrilla armies, with everyone of fighting age, male and female, able to hold a spear or wield a water whip. The conflicts weren’t petty anymore.

The first war after Ozai’s death was between two tribes in the depths of the Pole, with barely fifty members each. Food was scarce, and they disagreed about who had the rights to some prime hunting territory. A century ago, it might have ended with two dead, five wounded, and a steady peace. This time, there were four months of brutal guerrilla warfare. The loser was almost completely wiped out. The winners were left with around ten survivors, most either very old or very young. The only reason anyone even knew all this was because a larger tribe investigated to see what had happened to their trading partners.

That was only the first; more soon followed. Worse, the tribes’ reaction was to start setting up networks of alliances—networks that quickly became so convoluted and impenetrable that more than half of them almost certainly owed contradictory allegiances. The South soon found itself balanced atop a huge pile of kindling, with even a small spark threatening to set the entire region ablaze.

And truthfully, there wasn’t much Azula could do. She was not exactly a political novice, but the sheer number of tribes and bonds of friendship and hatred between them made it impossible for _anyone_ to comprehend more than a sliver of what was going on. The South concealed a hundred worlds of intrigue beneath its blizzards, and Azula couldn’t spend a lifetime learning them when she had the rest of the planet to worry about as well.

Luckily, despite being barbarians, the southerners were not stupid. They knew how devastating a huge war would be. While minor conflicts remained incessant, a major one hadn’t occurred as of yet. But Azula was not foolish enough to believe that the current situation would continue forever. Something would have to give.

These were the topics she discussed with Katara the day the latter ascended to be Chieftain of the Blizzard’s Shadow Tribe following her grandmother’s death and father’s retirement.

“I assume there’s a point to all this, Avatar?” Katara asked evenly after she finished.

Azula knew the new Chieftain would not like what she was about to hear. “There are too many old grievances and too many new conflicts. A fragile peace must break. There _will_ be war, one way or the other. The only questions are how many will be drawn into it and what results we can wring from it.”

“You have yet to answer my question.”

Azula dropped her voice to a whisper that she still made reverberate throughout the igloo. “The South can no longer contain hundreds of competing tribes. You’ve become too adept at war. You have only two options.” She put her hand forward, palm open, then clenched it into a fist. “Unite, or die.”

* * *

The Earth Kingdom presented a different pit of worm-beetles.

The first thing any serious student of Earth Kingdom politics had to learn was that “the Earth Kingdom” existed in name only. Ba Sing Se might technically have held sovereignty over the entire continent, but in practice, the Earth King’s authority over areas outside his city’s walls was tenuous at best. Everyone else was essentially under the thumb of a local lord (though there were of course complications and differences between regions).

This wasn’t surprising if you knew the history. The Earth Kingdom was _huge_ , after all, and over time its different areas had developed completely distinct cultures. Before the War, the average resident of Omashu hated Gaoling and Ba Sing Se more than the Fire Nation, and the feeling was mutual on all sides. Gaoling had revolted fifty years before the War. Chin revolted and took over almost the entire continent (temporarily) two centuries ago. And Omashu was basically its own country, even possessing its own King. Honestly, if the Earth Kingdom had been half as united as the Fire Nation, they would have likely beaten back the invasion with ease.

Be that as it may, after the War, Long Feng and his Dai Li had kept the other territories in line, using methods Azula studiously avoided looking at too closely. Unfortunately these methods cost money, lots of money, especially since the general perception was that Ba Sing Se’s response to the invasion had been to say “Best of luck!” and lock itself up inside its walls. Unfortunately, Azula had only truly appreciated this when her new flunky of a Grand Secretariat drastically slashed taxes to make the peasants happy, thus defunding the methods of control, thus causing a millennia’s worth of resentment to flare up at once.

She had learned, a bit too late, that taking out one person didn’t make the problems go away.

* * *

And then there was the Fire Nation.

Ichiro was dead, taking his Sons of the Phoenix with him, but he had hardly been the only one opposed to Zuko’s rule. Now, technically, the Firelord was supreme ruler. Technically, anyone who disobeyed an order would end with their head rolling on the ground next to Ichiro’s. In reality, there are innumerable ways to screw over your superior without actually disobeying them, and Zuko’s soldiers were learning every single one.

This was a huge issue for many reasons, but the biggest was that the Fire Nation military was also the Fire Nation police force. With war reparations leeching the country’s wealth, making poverty more rampant than it had been in centuries, lack of proper law enforcement was destructive. Crime was going up with no end in sight.

So that was bad. Bad enough to seriously threaten the precarious balance Azula, Zuko, and Mai had created. But that wasn’t the end of it, not even close.

The next problem was the nobility. When Firelord Himiko of the White Flame bound the Fire States together to create one nation, the old Kings and Princes demanded some share of power as a price for their obedience. While more than half their lines were now gone (though new nobility claimed to be descendants of some distant relative of an old noble clan), the system they had set up remained. Nobles ran the gamut from rich to poor, smart to slow, and influential to laughingstocks, but they all agreed on one thing: they deserved more money and more power. The War had given them both, and then Zuko had taken them away.

And even _that_ did not cover the full extent of the problem. There was still the Fire Sages. Sozin had forcibly taken away the power they still held and confined them to their island, a practice Azulon and Ozai maintained. Zuko, naturally, ended it and put them back in their traditional position as the Fire Nation’s religious authority. But they had not lost their taste for conquest and glory, and all her brother got in return for his generosity was yet another powerful group that detested his reconciliatory policies.

To summarize: the three main non-imperial centers of power all hated Zuko and would have liked nothing better than to see a sword through his guts.

But if that was enough to make people happy, the world would be a much simpler place.

* * *

Katara frowned as she sipped her boiled water.

_Unite or die_ , Azula had said, as if it were some kind of grand revelation. Katara had to rely on boring old eyes instead of earth and airbending, but she could see well enough. When she had been headmaster of her tribeless waterbending school, hardly a week went by without some family member complaining that they didn’t want their child associating with someone from a tribe they suddenly decided they hated. She knew very well that the entire South was at each other’s throats, just waiting for somebody else to make a wrong move.

But given that situation, just how did she expect that Katara could ally them all together?

“How’s the water, Chief Katara?”

_Tastes like seal-pigs._ “It’s quite bracing, Chief Andor.”

Well, this meeting would set things in motion, one way or another. Andor was Chieftain of the Ice Reavers Tribe, rivals of Katara’s tribe since before time forgot. The lists of offenses they both could claim were as long as they were embellished (which was heavily). Even during the War, Andor had tried to undercut Father every way he could short of collaboration with the enemy—and, to be fair, Father tended to give as good as he got. However, the Ice Reavers were the second-most numerous tribe in the South, just behind Katara’s. Unification, if it was possible at all, depended on them.

Hence this critically important, secret, extremely nerve-wracking meeting.

Andor took a big gulp from his own mug, which was made from a seal-pig’s skull. “I’d like to offer my thanks for teaching my son waterbending,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He had a shaggy beard that stretched down to his chest and a huge scar cut diagonally across his face.

“Baktu is an admirably hard worker and a very kind boy.”

Andor laughed heartily. “That’s one way of putting it. Another way is that he fights like a woman. Meaning no offense, Chieftain.”

Katara smiled thinly. “None taken.” Baktu was quite shy, but he had once confided in her that he had three older sisters, two of whom were more skilled in waterbending than him. He was the only one who had been sent to Katara’s school. And while Katara had been walking through the tribe’s territory (disguised, of course), she had noticed that almost everyone living in a permanent dwelling was a woman or a child, while all the ones sent out for hunting and guerrilla duty were men.

Hatsuna had greater impacts on some tribes than on others.

_For unity_ , she told herself. _So that more children don’t lose their mothers and fathers_. “Apologies, Chieftain, but I am very busy, and you must be as well. Could we talk about—”

“Yes, of course,” Andor cut her off. “Your messenger told me you had an important political matter to discuss. What of it?”

Katara could _feel_ her blood flowing faster. With practiced effort, she calmed it down. “You know very well the instability of the current balance of power, I’m sure.”

“We’re as balanced as a warmlander on a frozen lake.” Andor laughed again. “The Cold Blades and the Shark-Bears are one insult away from open war. The Wind Demons and Night Patrols already are at war, we just can’t admit it because if we did we’d have to get involved.” He smiled savagely at her. “Right?”

Katara had allied with the Night Patrol Tribe, Andor with the Wind Demons. It was one of almost a dozen alliances that would force them into war should the simmering hostilities break out.

“It is as you say,” she said evenly.

“I assume you didn’t come all the way here just to tell me things a blind fool could see?”

_No use playing coy, it seems_. “I propose a unification.”

At that, Andor’s confident front collapsed as his eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. “Unification? Are you serious?”

“One tribe, one people. It’s the only way to avoid war.”

Andor looked at her in shock for a few more seconds, then tilted his head back and laughed longer and harder than Katara had heard anyone laugh before. She had no idea if that was a good sign or not.

Finally he stopped, and looked at her with a toothy grin. “Do you know how I got this? _Chieftain_?” He jabbed a thumb at his scar.

Katara blinked, confused, and said, “No.”

“It’s said that no Water Tribesman fought Water Tribesman during the Hundred Years War, but that’s a damn lie. Thirty-seven years ago, a particularly nasty blizzard killed most of the game near us, so I led a hunting party into your father’s territory. He didn’t like that, and attacked us. Four dead, nine wounded, and this scar, courtesy of dear old dad’s blade.”

Katara’s mind was reeling. She had never heard of this, and had no idea what to say. All she could do was sit there, listening to Andor rant on.

“I thought you were going to declare war or demand we cut off our allies. Either way, I was planning to spit in your face and send you on your way. But after all you and your family did to us, you want us to forget the past, put on our best smile, and submit to your rule?”

“N-no, the rule would be—”

“ _I don’t care_!” Andor slammed a huge fist on the ice table in front of them, smashing it and sending shards flying. “I sent my son to your damn school because the Moon decided to grant you skill with waterbending, but don’t think I’ll stand for this insult. If you wanted to provoke me, you damn well succeeded. If it’s war you want, then it’s war you’ll have. We’re going to support the Wind Demons and put everything we’ve got into crushing your allies. Put that into your mouth and chew on it naked.”

Katara’s hand twitched. Andor wasn’t even a waterbender. It would be so easy to suffocate him. She could even make it look like an accident. Then his son Baktu would become Chieftain, and then maybe...

_Azula would do that_ , she thought bitterly. But she wasn’t Azula. And Andor, Spirits curse him, knew that very well indeed.

“Now get out,” he said.

Katara left without another word.

* * *

Haru sighed and lay his head on his arms as this meeting, like all the ones before it, collapsed into bickering.

It wasn’t that he himself held any particular malice for Ba Sing Se. He hated the Fire Nation. With them finally gone, he frankly couldn’t bring himself to care whether some guy he’d never met claimed to hold authority over him. But most everyone else in his village was still bitter that the Earth King had never even _tried_ to save them, and his father had hammered home that a leader has exactly as much power as his underlings are willing to give him.

So here he was at yet another fruitless meeting for disaffected village leaders plotting rebellion against the Capital.

“Our village has owned the Weizi River for generations!”

“Because you stole it from us!”

Haru was beginning to wonder if there were any two politicians who _didn’t_ hate each other.

After a few more hours of nothing productive, he trudged back to his camp when he noticed a hooded figure standing outside his tent. “Do I know you?” he asked.

The figure looked up, and in the torchlight he could make out a cloth where their eyes should be. Haru’s breath caught in his throat.

He had never met her before, but everyone in the world could recognize her.

“You’re—” The Avatar interrupted him with a small stream of fire, causing him to hiss in pain.

“Keep your voice down,” she whispered. “I’d rather no one else knew I was here. That’s kind of why I wore this.” She gestured at her hooded cloak.

Haru opened his mouth, checked himself, then whispered, “Why are you here?”

“Why don’t we discuss that away from prying eyes? So to speak.” She pushed open the tent flap.

Haru gulped. He had heard many stories about the Avatar, and being alone with her wasn’t exactly the safest prospect. But it would probably be even more dangerous to disobey her. Reluctantly, he slunk into the tent, the Avatar following close behind him.

“Um, you could sit there.” He gestured to the one chair, his voice only cracking a little bit.

“It’s okay, I’ll stand. This shouldn’t take long.”

Haru nodded, relieved. He kind of had to sit down himself. “So,” he said slowly after sitting, “if you’re here, then...”

“Yes, I know about your ‘secret’ rebellion meetings. Pretty much everyone important in the Earth Kingdom knows.”

He looked up in shock. “Really? But then—”

“Why aren’t they doing anything about it?” The Avatar chuckled. “My good friend and toady the Grand Secretariat has enough problems with his own city, trust me. If he _really_ wanted to he could probably kill you all, but even a complete idiot can tell that’d just make you guys revolt faster.”

Haru’s throat suddenly became very dry at the words _kill you all_. He belatedly realized he hadn’t really known what he was getting into when he went to these meetings. “Why are you here, then?”

“Ah, so we get to the main point.” The Avatar looked at him. Even while he was sitting, she had to look up—he was very tall—but it sure felt like the reverse. “I did a little reconnaissance. Out of all these fools playing at revolution, you’re the only one younger than fifty. I’m really tired of dealing with old men, and I think a change of pace might do me good. Hence, I’m here. Now then,” she leaned forward, and Haru got the impression that the world was getting smaller, “why are _you_ here?”

His hands clenched the ends of the chair as his mouth formed some words. “Ba Sing Se didn’t do anything for ninety-nine years—”

The Avatar cut him off again; luckily, this time it was with a wave of her hand instead of fire. “I’m not asking for your rallying cry. What I want to know is, why are _you yourself_ here?”

Haru looked down. _You’re being stupid_ , he admonished himself. If the Avatar had wanted to kill him, she’d have killed him by now. Probably. Anyway, he might as well go ahead and tell the truth. It’s not like he was a very good liar. “It’s not my choice,” he said, his voice very small. “But my people want to revolt.”

“And _that’s_ the problem.” He looked up, and was shocked to see the Avatar casually leaning against a tent post, looking more like she was discussing the weather than the potential of a mass rebellion. “If it was just a few power-hungry leaders, the problem could be solved easily enough,” she said lightly. “But just about the entire Earth Kingdom has decided it wants to revolt _somehow_ and is just arguing about how. I could kill them all, I suppose,” she raised a finger, “but that would be rather counterproductive.”

Haru just looked on, not sure what to think, as she continued talking. “I could whip up some scheme to scare them all into submission,” she said, raising a second finger, “but it’s not easy even for me to terrify the entire Earth Kingdom, and anyway that’d only be a stopgap measure. I could give them all enough rice to make them fat and happy,” she raised a third finger, “but there probably isn’t enough rice in the world for that.” She finally looked at him again...well, turned her head in his direction. “Frankly, and trust me when I say it’s extremely painful for me to admit this, I’m all out of ideas. You wouldn’t happen to have any, would you?”

His mouth opened, then closed. It repeated this process a few more times. In the end he just said, “Not as such, no.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” She sighed, though Haru was still too terrified to make out any particular emotion in it. “I’ve come to the conclusion that revolt is inevitable. I kind of just want to leave it alone and let you all fight it out yourselves, but you know...Avatar.” She sighed again, and stopped talking.

The stones in Haru’s brain finally started grinding again. If someone had told him the Avatar would be dropping by for a chat, then even if he believed them, he certainly wouldn’t have thought it would turn out like... _this_. He had no idea what her goal with this conversation was. But it seemed like he really should say _something_...

“Our meetings haven’t been very productive,” he said, “but people in my village are only getting more and more angry. If we can’t figure out an organized way to revolt, we’ll probably revolt anyway, just...messily.” He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to tell the Avatar all that. But she probably already knew anyway. And wasn’t the Avatar’s job to ensure peace, or balance, or something?

“If it’s a choice between the two, I’d definitely prefer an organized revolt,” the Avatar said. “Might as well get it all over with in one go. Why have the meetings gone badly, in your estimation?”

Haru finally managed a smile. “Everyone hates everyone else.”

“Of course. The classic problem of organization.” The Avatar let out a small grunt as she stood up from her leaning position. “Luckily, this is where we can turn the aforementioned major problem into our advantage.”

He blinked. “The aforementioned…?”

“The fact that it’s the people who want to revolt, not the leaders.” She snapped her fingers a few times. “Come on, keep up. You’ll have to be quicker than that if you’re going to be my partner in this.”

“P-partner?”

“Yup. I’ve got good contacts in Ba Sing Se, Omashu, and Gaoling, so I just need someone involved with all the unimportant people. And as previously mentioned, I’d rather not work with yet another old man. Don’t worry, you probably won’t die. Now come along.” She began walking out of the tent.

Haru stood up, flustered. “Wait, where are we—”

“Time is of the essence. Well, at least for me. You guys aren’t my only responsibility. We can ride on my bison. You don’t have anything important here, do you? Of course you don’t.” She walked out of the tent, and Haru started after her, stopped, fetched his travel sack, and ran out after her without really thinking about what he was doing.

He really had had _no_ idea what he was getting himself into, agreeing to go to those meetings.

* * *

“This payment will bankrupt us!”

“Then we should stop giving the military everything it wants at twice the price!”

“Do you intend to hand our country to the foreigners on a plush cushion!?”

Zuko’s eyes itched, but he dared not rub them. Council meetings were like gatherings of tiger-wolves, each looking for any sign of weakness to pounce on. The only reason he didn’t have a fang through his throat already was that all of them wanted to make sure _they_ would be the ones sitting on the throne next.

And there was always Mai, sitting next to him, constantly on full alert. She helped Zuko in more ways than she could ever know.

“Times have changed! We can’t go against the Avatar; we have to accept the new world order!” After the colonial compromise was _adjusted_ , the Fire Nation colonials who remained demanded to have a representative on Zuko’s small council. Naturally, the colonials had the biggest interest in keeping the Earth Kingdom friendly.

“If we have to ask foreigners’ permission for everything we do, we might as well not be a nation!” The War Minister’s opinion was always obvious. Most council meetings started with a loud argument between her and the colonial representative and quickly degenerated from there.

“She has a point,” said the one who spoke for the nobles—at least, as much as anyone _could_ speak for such a fragmented group. “It will be very difficult to make this payment. And need I remind you, Firelord, just _where_ most of your treasury comes from.”

Zuko stared back at him evenly. “I highly appreciate the taxes _every_ class pays, of course.” At first he had been nervous, but by now he was used to playing this game. “Incidentally,” he turned to the Finance Minister, “how much _do_ the nobles contribute?”

The Finance Minister said falteringly, “Technically, around 75%. But since much of their income comes from taxing the peasants...” He rarely said anything Zuko hadn’t said first, and was intensely uncomfortable making an original statement. Still, he served his purpose. The noble looked cowed.

The thrill of a temporary victory subsided when he glanced at the last member of the Council: the Fire Sages’ representative, Teng Fei. Teng Fei was the second-newest member of the Council (the nobles chose a different representative every other week) and rarely spoke, but Mai had warned Zuko the priest was dangerous the first time she saw him. He had kept an eye on the man ever since, but his face never deviated from its image of perfect serenity.

“We have to pay the Earth Kingdom somehow.” The colonial was becoming more and more desperate the longer Zuko didn’t betray his opinion. “If we don’t, who knows what they’ll do to us!”

The War Minister snorted. “Throw a few rocks?”

“ _We’re_ the ones who’ll get crushed by those rocks!” The colonial was practically shouting.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be _sure_ to protect you.”

“And the Earth Kingdom is the least of our problems,” the colonial went on. “The Avatar—”

“It’s always the _Avatar_ with you.” The War Minister leaned back in her chair and spoke in a mocking tone. “Avatar this, Avatar that. She’s the sister of our very own Firelord! She’s not going to attack us because of a few missed payments.”

Zuko cleared his throat. While he was usually happy letting them use up time with their pointless arguments, he couldn’t let that pass without comment. “My sister and I aren’t that close. Right now, all she wants is to keep our hard-won peace. _As do I_.”

The general waved her hand dismissively. “As I said, Firelord, it’s a few missed payments. If the Earth Kingdom attacks us over them, _they’d_ be the ones breaking the peace. If anything, the Avatar would be on our side.”

“You can’t know that for certain!” the colonial broke in. “Are you willing to risk our peoples’ lives on your _guess_?”

“I agree with the War Minister, or at least her basic sentiment.” The noble had recovered from his spar with Zuko and looked to have regained his confidence. “It’s an old trick: threaten to ruin someone if you don’t get your way, even if you have no intention of carrying the threat out. The Earth Kingdom wouldn’t start a war over this. They’ve barely recovered from the last one.”

Zuko steepled his fingers, deep in thought. He did have a point—nobody wanted another war, except maybe the War Minister (and most of the military, and many nobles and Fire Sages, and probably a good number of peasants...). Still. “If we deny the Earth Kingdom money, the Water Tribes might suspect they’re next,” he said slowly. “The Earth Kingdom might not move by itself, but allied with the rest of the world...”

“Have you been around the capital recently?” Teng Fei spoke up suddenly. The room went dead silent; everyone looked at the priest. Smiling genially, he continued. “I took a stroll this morning, to see how the peasant folk are getting along these days. It’s not well, to say the least. Poverty, hunger, crime...”

“We know all that,” the colonial said.

Teng Fei ignored him and kept talking. “As you know, we Fire Sages were out of touch with the world for a long time. When the Firelord so graciously ended our exile,” he bowed to Zuko in such a manner that Zuko couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic, “I decided to spend years traveling around the country, to shore up my knowledge that was so clearly lacking. As a result, I came to several conclusions regarding our present situation. Does the Firelord wish to hear them?”

Mai moved her eyes just a tiny amount: _Danger ahead_. Still, he couldn’t deny Teng Fei’s request politely, which the priest likely knew. “Certainly, Sage.”

Teng Fei’s smile, if possible, grew even broader. “We have spent the last one hundred years at war. Our entire society—culture, economy, government—became dependent on that war. When it ended, all our institutions lost their mooring. We no longer know who we are or what we are doing. All we have left is a great void.”

Mai was jabbing Zuko’s side now, but he couldn’t do anything as Teng Fei started speaking faster, louder, and more and more passionately. “These reparation payments aren’t the only reason our people are in poverty. Our nation is crumbling around us. All of _you_...” his eyes swept the room, but they lingered most on Zuko, “are only arguing over who gets to devour its carcass.”

“How dare you!” the noble shouted, jumping to his feet. The colonial was wringing his hands, while the War Minister slouched back in her chair with a dark expression on her face. Mai’s entire body was tense, and Zuko knew she was fingering her knives, preparing to throw one into the priest’s throat at a moment’s notice.

“If you disagree with my methods,” Zuko said as calmly as he could, “why don’t you propose some of your own?”

Teng Fei’s face lit up, and Zuko cursed his stupidity at falling into the priest’s trap. “As the Firelord commands.” Turning to the entire room, he recited in a booming voice, “It was the Firelords who condemned us Sages to exile, the Firelords who murdered the dragons, the Firelords who chained our nation to war, and the Firelords who cut those chains without worry about what would happen afterward. I am quite tired of letting the Firelord hold these sham councils and then proceed to decide everything by himself anyway. I propose the Firelord give _us_ some of the power he now greedily keeps to himself.”

For a time, everyone stared at the priest in shock.

Then the room erupted.

* * *

“Is this some sort of joke?”

_Oh, if only_. The deceit had worked perfectly, though Katara almost wished it hadn’t. Azula and Kalu were crazy enough alone. Together, they managed to make old master Hama (Spirits rest her soul) seem like a little kitten-seal. But, as Azula took a little too much pleasure in pointing out, it was either this or let the South Pole-spanning war trudge on to its inevitable conclusion.

Well, there were probably other options too, but Katara couldn’t think of any.

So here she was, having fooled Andor and his alliance of Spirits-know-how-many tribes into thinking they were ambushing her main guerilla force. Instead they faced her.

Alone.

_Apparently I’m in quite a hurry to die._

“I will only say this once,” Katara said, scanning the featureless snow-covered plain. A light snowfall partly obscuring the sky. “I do not wish to kill anyone. On the contrary, I wish for all of us to finally become one people. If you lay down your weapons and go home, no harm will befall you.”

“No offense, Chieftain,” Andor said, gesturing with his gigantic battleaxe, “but I don’t think you’re in a position to make threats here.”

His army looked to have somewhere in the range of seven to eight hundred warriors—around the point when adding more troops would just make the outfit unwieldy as a guerilla force. It had many powerful waterbenders with it; not coincidentally, it also contained a large number of graduates from Katara’s waterbending academy.

This entire plan depended on Katara: her power, but more importantly, her charisma. Even brief reflection on this fact made her want to curl up into a ball and cry herself to sleep. Her old stomach wound was aching more than it had in years.

And she realized something: all of Azula’s plans depended almost completely on the Avatar’s _own_ power and charisma. She wasn’t sure what to think about that. But it did make her feel a little better.

“What use is this war?” she asked, addressing not Andor but the entire enemy army. “What do you gain out of killing and dying by the hands of fellow Southern Water Tribespeople? In order to stand on an equal level with other countries—”

“We’ve heard all this before,” Andor cut her off, voice rough and gravelly, “and it ain’t any more convincing now. _Kill her_!”

Over two hundred waterbenders raised their arms...

And the world became chaos.

The past few months, she had sent messages to all of her former students that were now among her enemies whom she thought she had a chance of winning over. Most of them followed the instructions and met with her. While all of _them_ had agreed to ally with her, Katara had had no idea how many would actually follow through. From what little she could make out, it seemed to be a good number. Katara wanted to think it was because she had convinced them with her unimpeachable argumentation and inspiring ideals, but probably most were just afraid of her—they had firsthand knowledge of just the level of power she possessed.

Oh well, can’t have everything.

Something like a hundred powerful waterbenders suddenly turning on their comrades dulled the attack coming Katara’s way by a bit, but not by a lot. The snow beneath her snapped open like a whale-shark’s maw, and the sides were rushing to crush her. A classic move—either the impact would kill her, or the snow would suffocate her. She could stop it, but she’d have to defeat the combined might of two hundred plus enemy waterbenders to do it.

Luckily, she had two advantages. Number one: it was extremely difficult to coordinate so many benders, especially with the added challenge of mass dissension in the ranks. Number two: she was the most powerful (non-Avatar) waterbender in centuries.

Katara focused on her blood. She could feel it flowing through her body, just like the oceans flowed across the world. Just like the snow was flowing toward her now. Waterbending, at its core, was actually quite simple: sense the flow of the world, then move with it instead of against it.

More feeling than seeing the snow, she spun through the air, and the two giant mounds of snow—twenty times as big as she was—flowed around her, as if they were a river and she was a stone.

As she fell into the gap the enemy’s attack had created, she moved her arms forward and sent the mounds of snow crashing into the ground. But they didn’t stop. Instead, they kept moving forward, picking up more and more snow as they went along until they resembled tidal waves instead of clumps.

This next part was the challenging bit. All she had told her students was to fight with her “when the time came,” for fear of letting any information leak. Which meant that, right now, they had no idea what to do. In the few seconds before the snow reached the enemy army, she saw a large group of her former students breaking away; lowering one finger, she collapsed the part of the snow that was heading for them. The rest continued on its course.

Most of the enemy waterbenders tried to stop the snow, but it was futile; they were trying to block the flow instead moving with it. Some of them tried counterattacking her, but they didn’t have a clear view; the few attacks that actually reached her Katara batted away with her legs, keeping her arms constantly forward. A few realized the correct countermeasure was to move themselves upward and crest the snow wave, and then realized that this tactic consigned their comrades to a terrifying death.

_This is why you don’t bring an army to the South Pole._

Andor’s voice rose over the din. “Someone do something!”

The snow tidal waves, over fifty men tall and one hundred wide by the end, crashed into the enemy army.

A sudden wave of fatigue overcame Katara. She almost fainted, but she grit her teeth, clenched her stomach, and stomped the small platform she had bent for herself.

Biting her bottom lip until she drew blood, Katara lowered her arms, concentrated, then raised them again. Twenty giant spheres of snow rose up with her. Many of her students followed her cue and raised snow spheres of their own. Some of the remaining enemy non-benders had begun charging her; some of the remaining benders tried a few half-hearted attacks, but her students were kind enough to stop those for her.

“You can still retreat!” she screamed, stomped her foot, moved her arms down, and sent the spheres crashing into the remains of the army.

The enemy waterbenders probably managed to deflect the spheres a little, but not a lot.

Katara was panting heavily now. Her heart was ramming itself into her ribcage and her vision was fading. It was taking all her willpower just to stay awake. It looked like there were still two hundred or so enemies left. This next part was the most important. If they attacked now...

But her reputation, the defection of her students, and her two displays of power accomplished their purpose. The remaining enemy troops turned tail and ran.

Katara looked around at the ones that remained. She recognized their faces, former students all. Each expression was different. Triumph, fear, despair, apathy...

She called out to the nearest one, a girl (well, woman now) named Hova from the Western Icicle Tribe. “I’m going to need some help getting home,” she said, and then finally fainted.

* * *

Probably the only reason Haru wasn’t sweating now was that he had _already_ sweat out his body’s entire supply of water.

With his help, the Avatar had gone to every prominent Earth Kingdom city and village and essentially told them she’d back them in a revolt as long as they did it soon. (Apparently, she was telling the Grand Secretariat this was to lure the rebellious elements into playing their hand early and entrap them; Haru wasn’t sure how much of that was deception.) Then when Haru officially declared his village as independent, the avalanche began and the citizens of most other provinces soon forced their leaders to follow.

The response of Ba Sing Se was to muster its army to attack _him_ , personally, as well as send Dai Li agents to assassinate him, as a lesson to the others. And the Avatar said she couldn’t help him out openly because she had to keep fooling the Grand Secretariat. And most of the other revolting provinces were too busy worrying about themselves to help him out.

He probably should have seen all that coming.

Perhaps worst of all, of the few provinces that _were_ helping him out, by far the most powerful was...

“Say, Haru, have you ever noticed...”

He _was_ a very powerful and influential Earthbender, but...

“ _Impenetrable City_ has something of a double entendre to it?” Bumi asked.

Haru rubbed his temples. “No, I haven’t. Thank you very much for the insight.”

Bumi tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I wonder if the Grand Secretariat has ever been—”

A pair of earthen hands rocketed from the walls of his mayoral office toward Haru’s throat. Though they shut Bumi up, so he was actually somewhat thankful for them.

Anyway, Haru brought his own fists up and punched through them, while Bumi made a small hand motion, causing something like an explosion and killing the Dai Li agent behind it.

“They are a parsimonious bunch,” Bumi commented as he looked at the agent’s body.

“...Do you mean persistent?”

Bumi looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Do I?”

Haru blinked, then closed his eyes to hide his frustration. Bumi was almost a hundred and thirty years old; he had no idea how the old man was still alive. Then again, he probably shouldn’t complain.

“Why the long face?” Bumi asked, then tilted his head. “Wait...does that even make sense? It’s not like our faces change in length—”

“Ba Sing Se’s army is going to arrive _tomorrow_ ,” Haru interrupted. “Even with your forces, we’re outnumbered more than five to one.” He sat on his chair and put his head in his hands. “If all of us actually stood together, we might...”

“The lament of every Earth Kingdom leader since time immemorial.” Bumi let out a long, pensive sigh—very odd, for him. Haru couldn’t be sure, but looking at him, the Mad King actually seemed to have a sane expression on his face. “Don’t worry, though. Their attack will fail.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.” The sarcasm tumbled out before Haru could stop it.

Luckily, Bumi just laughed. “Don’t worry. The Avatar isn’t a fool.” The Mad King put a hand on Haru’s shoulder; Haru flinched back a bit thoughtlessly. “Stay up late tonight. Something interesting might happen.”

Haru gave him a blank expression. “Is there a reason you’re being so vague?”

Bumi wagged his finger. “You never know who might be listening.”

_But you already said something’s going to happen..._ Haru sighed. Talking with Bumi was never helpful.

That said, however much he didn’t trust Bumi, the Mad King was his most powerful—truthfully, his _only_ powerful—supporter. And without any other ideas, he stayed up late, looking over maps of his village and trying to figure out some way to delay the inevitable.

Finally, at an unholy hour of the night, he heard a very faint knock at his door. Haru stood up slowly. He half-expected this was just another prank of Bumi’s...but would even the Mad King do that when they were all about to die in a few hours?

...Actually, yes. Still though, he allowed himself a measure of optimism as he unlocked the door.

Haru heard a loud crash, then felt a sharp pain in his chest. Before he knew it, he was flying across the room and landed in a mangled heap on the ground.

Looking up, his vision blurry, he saw a warhammer through the wreckage of his wooden door—likely the cause of the pain and the flying. And the person holding it...

_Crap_.

Was General Chen, one of the Council of Five and the man who was leading the assault against him.

Haru rolled to the side, ignoring the pain in his chest. He had endured much worse on the Fire Nation prison ship. He managed to avoid a rock Chen sent at him, but lost his footing when the General slammed his warhammer into the ground, making the earth shake. Panicked, he earthbent himself a hole in the wall and scrambled outside. He had to find—

Eight Dai Li agents were standing outside his house.

As they pointed their stone-cloaked hands at him, the most Haru could muster was a _Well, that’s that then_.

Gritting his teeth, he stomped his foot hard and raised up a giant rock. At least he would go out figh—

A series of loud squelches filled the nighttime air. The boulder Haru had bent fell to the ground with a crash.

All the Dai Li agents were now suspended in the air, earthen spikes sticking out of their chests, bent from the ground beneath them.

His mouth moved, but no words came out.

“Don’t get all comatose on me now,” a voice said from his side.

Haru looked in its direction, and yet again, he could barely form coherent thoughts through his shock.

The Avatar was the most famous person in the world, but her assistant/friend/ _something_ , usually known as the Blind Bandit, was rather famous herself.

“You did this?” he croaked.

An odd flicker of guilt passed across the Blind Bandit’s face, but it quickly regained its former slack-jawed arrogance. “Come on. I was only able to kill these guys ‘cause you distracted them. There are still plenty out there.”

The Blind Bandit started running. With little else to do, Haru followed her.

“Does this mean the Avatar is—”

“Azula’s off in the Fire Nation. She doesn’t want any of her own fingerprints on this.” The Blind Bandit’s voice, businesslike until now, took on an undertone of annoyance when she then said, “I’m the one who takes care of her clandestine affairs, as it were. Easier to maintain plausible deniability.”

“What exactly is going on, then?”

“Watch out!” the Blind Bandit shouted. Looking at where she was pointing, he saw a group of Dai Li agents perched on the wall of a house.

The Blind Bandit stomped the ground, but the Dai Li leapt off the wall and shot their stone hands at them. Haru rolled out of the way—

And saw the Blind Bandit pinned to the ground by the stone hands. They had slammed onto her ankles, wrists, and torso, preventing her from moving.

_Why...?_ Realization hit him with a brick. _Oh right. If they’re in the air, she can’t..._

The ten or so Dai Li agents landed light as a feather and bent themselves another pair of stone gloves. Haru backed up, trying wildly to think of something, _anything_ to do.

A loud shriek slashed through the air. Its source was the Blind Bandit, who bellowed like a beast from the Yellow Springs as she slammed her head _hard_ against the ground. The impact was so loud Haru wondered for a brief second if she had committed suicide before he saw the stone hands gripping her body fly into the air.

The Blind Bandit had earthbent with her head.

The Dai Li agents were good—they jumped into the air as soon as she was free. But Haru was better. He had already bent up a boulder, and sent it flying at the nearest Dai Li. You can’t dodge in the air, and the agent was too distracted by the Blind Bandit to stop the boulder from slamming into him.

_One down_ , he thought, as he suddenly became aware of sweat falling from his body like a waterfall.

The other Dai Li agents were focused on the Blind Bandit and sent all their attacks at her. But Haru didn’t have time to think about that. Gritting his teeth as his chest burned, he pulled up another rock and aimed it at a second agent. The agent managed to put his hand up to block in time, except Haru shifted its direction at the last moment and sent it slamming into the man’s chest instead.

He grinned in spite of himself. He might not be a monster like the Blind Bandit or the Mad King, but he wasn’t too shabby if he did say so himself.

His self-congratulation was soon ruined as something slammed into the back of his head.

Haru collapsed face-first into the ground. His nose broke with a _snap_ and he could almost feel his brain slam into the back of his skull. His head burned like it had been engulfed in flame, and then he heard a Dai Li agent land right behind him and felt a layer of rock around his neck. In one millisecond, the Dai Li agent would squeeze his throat into pulp.

His hands shot up and grabbed the stone glove. Maybe the agent was surprised he could still move, or maybe Haru was just more powerful than him. Either way, he pressed and earthbent the glove to squeeze the agent’s hand into pulp instead. As the man screamed in agony, Haru bent his fingers into the earth, pulled up a slab of rock, and in one clean motion stood up and slammed the rock into the Dai Li agent’s temple. He crumpled to the ground.

That surprise attack had hurt, but the Fire Nation had done far, _far_ worse. This pain was nothing compared to watching his father die of exhaustion on board that Tian-forsaken ship.

His head was pounding, blood was pouring out of the remains of his nose, but his vision was clearer than ever. The Blind Bandit’s scream should have alerted people that something was wrong. All he had to do was hold out until reinforcements arrived.

_That reminds me_. He looked for the Blind Bandit, and figured she was inside that giant earth cocoon that was suddenly there. The other Dai Li agents looked to have their hands full avoiding the giant spikes she bent out of the ground. Two of them had already been impaled. But three of the others jumped into the air, one bending an opening in her protection and the other two sending their stone gloves at it.

Haru felt blood mingling with sweat as both trickled down his neck. But that didn’t matter.

He didn’t have time to block their attack, but the Blind Bandit could handle herself. Instead, he kneeled and slammed his fists into the ground, easily ignoring the pain. The greater control he had with his hands as opposed to his feet permitted him to draw fourteen rocks out of the ground, all of them the size of his head.

The Dai Li were very good at chi control, sneak attacks, and assassination. What they were not good at was pure, brute force.

With a huge sweep of his arms, he sent all the rocks at the three Dai Li agents. They were in the air so they couldn’t dodge, and they didn’t have the power to deflect all of them. They did take a defensive stance, but guarding your head with your arms really doesn’t make a difference when giant rocks slam into your body at high speed. All three of them fell to the ground and didn’t move.

Panting, Haru looked around wildly, trying to find another target. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed some stone hands flying at him. He managed to sweep them aside, only to feel another two clamp onto his back.

Haru fell to his knees. He grabbed onto the hands, but either this Dai Li was more powerful than the last or he was weaker—he stopped them from crushing him, but he couldn’t get them off. He looked up and saw a Dai Li agent a few _bu_ away, probably the one whose attack Haru had deflected, bend himself a new set of stone hands.

Panic gripped Haru surer than the earthen gloves. If he let go of the ones around his torso, they’d crush him. If he didn’t, the agent in front of him would kill him. What could he...?

He remembered the feat the Blind Bandit had pulled, back when she was pinned.

_Better than nothing_.

Haru shut his eyes, tried to remember those things his father had told him about feeling the chi of the earth, dipped his head, then jerked it upward hard enough to feel his neck crack a little.

He opened his eyes. Much to his surprise, a boulder that had not been there before was floating in the air. The Dai Li agent in front of him was surprised, too. Smiling, Haru shot his head back down, and the boulder flew at the agent. Still in a state of shock, the Dai Li just stood there as the huge mass of rock slammed into him—then kept moving, carrying him into the wall behind him.

Haru was breathing very heavily now. That attack had taken a lot out of him. Now for the—

_Crap!_ He had taken his attention away from the stone hands around his torso, if only for a second. He grasped at them wildly—

Only to discover they weren’t there anymore.

He looked down, dumbfounded. They were lying lifelessly on the ground. He looked behind him, only to be struck even more dumbfounded.

The Dai Li agent was sprawled face-down in the dirt, blood seeping out of his head. Standing over him with a bloody warhammer was General Chen.

“Sorry for attacking you earlier,” he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “I had to make these bastards think I was on their side.” He held a hand out to Haru. “Need help getting up?”

Without really thinking about it, Haru took his hand and let himself get pulled to his feet.

“Seems the Blind Bandit has taken out the others in this area,” Chen said, jerking his head. Haru spared it a quick glance to see that indeed, all the Dai Li agents he could see were either impaled by a spike or collapsed on the ground. “Bumi has killed a lot of them as well. The Grand Secretariat went all-out here, but we’re probably almost finished now. Still, don’t let your guard down.”

Haru nodded. “Um...why are you...?”

“Helping you out?” A half-kind, half-malicious grin spread across Chen’s face. “I betray the Capital and save your ass. In exchange, I’m the boss of everything north of Omashu and west of Ba Sing Se.”

His mind stretched in all directions and twisted in on itself. Depending on how you interpreted that, he was asking for almost half the Earth Kingdom, including Haru’s own village. How could he possibly—

“If you refuse,” Chen said, heaving his warhammer, “I’ll kill you.”

Haru looked at the bloody hammer. He was distinctly aware that he barely had the strength to stand right now. “It’s a deal,” he heard himself say.

Chen’s smile became rather more kindly. “Glad we have an understanding.”

* * *

“The Avatar has arrived!” someone shouted. Zuko briefly wondered whose job it was to select these announcers, and whether or not they enjoyed it. Not for the first time, he reflected on how little he really knew about the sprawling organization he nominally headed.

Anything was better than thinking of what he was about to do.

After Teng Fei the Fire Sage’s speech, the council chamber had devolved into such chaos that Zuko couldn’t remember precisely what happened. At some point in the inferno of arguments, though, someone—probably the colonial—suggested they take the dispute to the Avatar. The others were reluctant at first, considering she was his sister (few understood the extent to which Azula separated the personal from the political), but since the alternative was rapidly looking to be armed revolution Teng Fei eventually acquiesced, with one condition: the dispute be aired publicly, for any Fire Nation citizen to see. Everyone else soon fell in line.

So here they were, in the biggest public square in the Fire Nation. The “debate” had been announced months in advance, and there were so many spectators that they were pressed together into a sea of humanity. Nothing like this had happened before in Fire Nation history, after all.

_And that’s why I didn’t want to think about this._ He wished Mai and his daughters were with him, but since this was supposed to be a debate between him and Teng Fei only, his family was in the front stands with the other important people.

Azula soon appeared out of the crowd. In the years since their father’s...defeat, she had slowly but surely shed the appearance of Fire Nation nobility. The process had finally reached its culmination: her hair was short and disheveled, her clothing a plain brown tunic and pants (with bare feet), and even her skin had tanned to a noticeably darker hue. The only outward sign of refinement anywhere on her now was the black, silken, ruby-inlaid cloth covering her eyes.

Of course, no matter what, she was still the Avatar. Few dared gossip about it.

Her walk, at least, was the same; she virtually stalked up to the raised dais at the front of the square and sat upon the giant chair. With a jolt, Zuko recalled that their father had sat there during Azula’s fateful master’s duel, the day when so much suddenly ended. Azula took a few seconds to sit silently with a contemplative look on her face, then said, “We all know why we’re here, so let’s skip the pleasantries. Firelord Zuko, you go first.”

Zuko stood up and walked to the center of the square, moving exactly as he had practiced with Mai so many times. He and his ‘opponent’ Teng Fei were technically addressing the Avatar, but everyone knew the real goal was convincing the gathered audience. He turned, faced Azula, and recited his speech from muscle memory gained through thousands of practices.

“For thousands of years, the Fire Nation has been ruled by the children of the Sun Spirit Amaterasu. I will not pretend that our rule has always been prosperous. Just as there are good and bad peasants, merchants, soldiers, and nobles, there have been both good and bad Firelords. Some have provided for our people while maintaining peace with our neighbors, while others have not. Nevertheless, until now, nobody has questioned our right to rule. Does Teng Fei believe he was the first one smart or brave enough to do so?

“No, the answer is that he’s the first one to forget a basic truth. While Firelords are not perfect, we are far more qualified to rule than those from any other class. It is not just that the blood of Amaterasu runs through our veins. We learn how to rule from the day we’re born. Just as peasants teach their children to farm rice and merchants teach their children to trade, Firelords teach our children to govern. We are the only ones who can rule because we are the only ones who know how.

“Furthermore, if Teng Fei succeeds in tearing down the Firelords, who will he replace us with? If _anyone_ can rule, no matter their birthright, _everyone_ will want to rule. The result would be civil war. The Fire Sages would fight the nobles would fight the military. The ones who suffer would, as always, be the peasants. Our choice is not between government under the Firelords and government under someone else. It is between government under the Firelords and no government at all.

“The blood of Amaterasu runs strong in some members of our family and weak in others. But it, and it alone, bestows the authority to command our great nation. The line of Amaterasu, and us alone, possess the divine right to rule!”

With that Zuko brought his speech to its end, punctuated with a shout and a clenched fist. A deafening noise arose from the audience, though it was hard to tell if it was of approval or disapproval. He thought it sounded like approval, but then again he probably would.

_Well, it doesn’t really matter,_ he reflected as he walked back to his seat, back rigid and expression showing only steely defiance. The debate had only just begun. Next Teng Fei would give his opening statements, then they’d try to rebut each other, then Azula would question them...

He mentally slapped himself. _Just take things one step at a time._

As he sat down, Teng Fei stood up. The monk bowed to the audience on all four sides, gave one deep bow to the Avatar, stood up, and opened his mouth.

“Don’t bother, monk,” Azula said, cutting him off with a sweep of her hand. “This debate is over.”

The entire square, thousands upon thousands of people, was dead silent.

Teng Fei was the first to speak. “B-but that’s...!” he stuttered. “Avatar, you can’t—”

“Yes I can.” She hopped out of the chair onto her feet. “I see no need to continue. I found Firelord Zuko’s arguments thoroughly unconvincing, and so decide in favor of Master Teng Fei.”

The square remained silent for a few more seconds. Then a sound unlike anything Zuko had heard before slammed into his ears. Thousands of people were climbing over each other, every one screaming something different. All Zuko could think was that a riot was about to start—

A peal of thunder pierced through the din. A huge forked lightning bolt, bigger than the royal palace, rose into the heavens.

As the ringing in Zuko’s ears slowly died down, he became aware that he couldn’t move. Looking down, he saw it was because the ground under his feet had crept upward and encased his entire lower body in solid rock. A quick look around revealed everyone else in the square was the same way.

Except for one.

The Avatar’s eye covering was off, but her sockets weren’t empty. They were filled with a blinding white light.

“Zuko is not a god,” she said, wind carrying her voice with utmost clarity. “The only god here is me.”

Then, all at once, the sense that he was looking at something not of this world, something far beyond his comprehension, disappeared. The light died down as his sister took her eye covering out of her pocket and tied it around her head. She was back to her usual self. Which, admittedly, was still terrifying. And half his body was still encased in rock.

“Before today, both Zuko and Teng Fei sent me letters outlining their major points. Teng Fei’s included a rather impressively detailed account of what kind of government system he wants to replace the Firelord’s rule with. I will ignore all of it and propose my own system.

“New laws will be made and old laws annulled by a gathering of the nobles. A majority of votes is needed for either. The Firelord will still be the one who runs the government, but he—or she—must obey the dictates the nobles pass. The ones who ensure this will be the Fire Sages, who can annul the Firelord’s power by a...let’s say three-quarters vote. In this event, the Firelord’s powers will become purely ceremonial and the nobles will choose one among their number to be the new head of government. However, the Fire Sages will be able to restore the old Firelord at any time through a majority vote. The military gets no additional power whatsoever. I will write up these new policies and put them in every hamlet in the Fire Nation so everyone knows them by heart.

“Work out the details yourselves, because I frankly can’t be bothered.”

Her head turned in every direction, as if she were daring someone to raise their voice in protest. Needless to say, no one did.

Azula turned her face to Zuko. He had no idea what to do. But he got the feeling he didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

* * *

“So Azula, I hear someone tried to kill my sister again.”

Azula frowned. She didn’t appreciate the accusing tone in Sokka’s voice. He was pretty full of himself for being Arnook’s heir and all, but he often seemed to think _she_ could control the entire world. “You heard right.”

“Is she unharmed?” Yue asked from Azula’s other side.

“From what I understand.” The tension in the air was palpable—mostly from Sokka’s side. She shrugged. “Look, unifying people who’ve been fighting for millennia isn’t easy.”

“I thought that was why you had her take on an entire army by herself,” Sokka said, his tone even darker than before.

“That’s why I _suggested_ she take on an entire army by herself,” Azula amended. “It had the intended effect of terrifying everyone else, but I suppose order resting solely on fear doesn’t last very long. She’s given her chief rivals powerful positions in the new government, but even so I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a revolt in a few years or decades.”

Sokka didn’t seem convinced. But Yue said, “I believe in my sister-in-law. If anyone can do this, she can.” The implied critique ( _Do you not have faith in your sister?_ ) succeeded in calming him, at least a little bit.

_Well, I suspect Kalu and Bato are the ones in charge of the political side of things_ , Azula thought, but that was fine. Katara’s role was to use her connections, power, and charisma to convince as many people as possible to follow her, and she was doing a pretty good job at it. As long as she got a husband soon, at least; people were already starting to worry about the lack of an heir. Competently doing the role you’re assigned is really all anyone could be expected to do. Whether or not that’s a good thing.

“Incidentally, Avatar,” Yue said, likely trying to move the conversation away from Katara, which Azula was quite grateful for, “I hear the situation in the Earth Kingdom—or should I say Earth Kingdoms now?—has settled down somewhat.”

Azula considered that. “I suppose that’s true. Ba Sing Se gave up when half their army and two of the Council of Five defected, but nobody really knows what the borders of the new countries will be and who’ll run them.” She shrugged again. “Well, Omashu’s going to gobble up a fair amount, and the Bei Fongs have been wanting to get revenge for losing their land in the former colonies. So they’ll probably end up the big winners. Others bit off more than they can chew,” she briefly thought of her ‘friend’ General Chen, “and they’ll pay for their mistakes sooner or later. But it’ll be what it’ll be.”

“Really? You’re not going to intervene?” Sokka said, voice laden with sarcasm. Apparently he was still in a bad mood.

“I will only intervene if it seems like the situation will develop into full-scale war,” Azula said impatiently, “and I’m afraid I can’t give you the details about that.”

“If you say so,” Sokka said, clearly not believing her. _Well, whatever_ , she thought.

After a minute of uncomfortable silence, Yue cleared her throat. “We recently received reports about the situation in the Fire Nation.”

_This’ll be interesting._ “And?”

“I was somewhat…surprised by the actions you took,” Yue said hesitantly, as if afraid Azula would take on the Avatar State right then and there if she perceived any insult.

Azula thought for a bit about what to say. “The entire situation was a clusterf—mess of gigantic proportions. No matter what I did, I’d piss off half the country. So I just did what felt right.”

That wasn’t even really a lie.

“You really think it’ll work out?” Sokka asked. Azula did a double-take; as far as she could tell, he wasn’t asking a rhetorical question, but was honestly curious. Huh.

“Well, nobody in power now has the courage to oppose me.” _Especially since I’m the only reason they haven’t gotten in trouble for missing their reparation payments,_ she might have added, but of course Sokka and Yue knew that and she didn’t feel like getting into another argument about it with them. “As for the peasants, I suspect most of them don’t really care who’s in charge as long as they’re not starving to death. I haven’t really solved the underlying issues, I realize, but the system can always change again if those become overpowering.”

“You don’t think that’s a bad thing?” The accusatory tone in Sokka’s voice was back, but it was different from last time. It was more like they were engaging in a debate, now. “You’ve set the precedent for changing the foundations of government. What’s to stop that from happening every few years? Won’t that cause chaos?”

“Everything has its risks,” she said evenly. “I can imagine the nobles or military deciding they deserve more power and starting some trouble.” _Teng Fei isn’t entirely happy either._ “And maybe even the peasants will decide they should have some say in things too. Since the beginning the Fire Nation’s been ruled by the Firelords, so nobody really knows what’ll happen now. Even if the country burns down though, I’ll be there to help rebuild from the ashes.”

Before Sokka could respond, the ceremony finally commenced. Someone announced the presence of every important Northern Water Tribe official there (and the Avatar), and then Arnook began his speech.

“The Hundred Years War and its aftermath has changed much,” he said, his voice weathered with old age yet still strong enough to carry across the entire square. “It gave my daughter a husband and myself a son, but it took away many other husbands, sons, and fathers. It revealed in stark terms our frayed relations with other countries, even our sister tribes in the South. But most of all, it forced us to confront how the rest of the world saw us.

“This city was constructed hundreds of years ago, to celebrate our unification as one tribe. We’ve never seen the need for kings, large governments, and extensive territory. We were proud of our heritage, proud of the fact that all our sons know how to hunt, craft, and fight when the average foreigner has trouble even wielding a sword. We knew they thought of us as uncivilized barbarians, and we didn’t care.

“But the War made us see the folly of that way of thinking. The Fire Nation didn’t attack us for over seventy years. We thought that was because we were strong, but we were wrong; it was because we were weak. We would have been wiped out sixteen years ago, were it not for the Avatar.”

For a few seconds, Azula knew the eyes of everyone present were on her. She kept up an impassive expression.

“We are still proud of our history, and rightfully so. We are still proud of our culture, and rightfully so. But we cannot ignore the rest of the world any longer. We are still weaker than our neighbors. We can become stronger, but only if we want to—only if we are willing to make the necessary sacrifices to do so. It will be a very long process, but a necessary one. As always, actions are far more difficult than words, but words can be just as important.

“Therefore, as Chieftain of the Northern Water Tribe, I gratefully put to rest our old name. Starting today, we will be known as the Water Empire!” A raucous cheer greeted him as every Northern Water Tribe citizen present, or she should probably say Water Empire citizen now, screamed in celebration.

_An empire of a wasteland, with just a few cities to its name,_ Azula thought to herself. But maybe she shouldn’t be so harsh. Just like everyone else, they were trying to take charge of their own destiny. At least they were doing it without killing anyone. So far.

_It’ll be what it’ll be._ There was only so much one could do.

* * *

**End of Chapter 11**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn’t remember, “Impenetrable City” is the translation the show gave for “Ba Sing Se.” The Yellow Springs, at least according to the internet, is a place in ancient Chinese mythology similar to Hell. As a reminder, Tian was basically the chief god of Imperial China. A bu is a unit of length in ancient China; its precise length varied but was usually around one meter.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	13. Enlightenment III

Special thanks to my previous beta Lavanya Six, and my current betas Devon and Aurelia Le!

**Timeline Note:** The “Enlightenment” chapters take place approximately one year after Ozai’s death.

* * *

**The Right to Rule**

An _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ fanfic

* * *

**Chapter 12**

**Enlightenment III**

* * *

“The third chakra is the Fire Chakra, located in the stomach.”

“I’m disappointed, Guru. The last two times, our location was a good match for the chakra we were dealing with. But now,” she swept her arm in a long arc, “we’re just sitting on the edge of the mountainside. What does that have to do with fire?”

“Would you prefer we be inside a volcano?”

“Kind of.”

Pathik sighed. Azula mentally congratulated herself on her victory. “Moving on,” he said. “This chakra deals with willpower and is blocked by shame.”

“Okay, question.”

“What is it, Avatar?” Pathik asked in a resigned tone.

“I got rid of my guilt back at the second chakra, right? What’s the difference between guilt and shame?”

“Hmmm...”

_Does he always have to make such a show of contemplating it before he gives the answer he knew from the—_

“That’s a very good question, Avatar. I’m not sure I know the answer.”

...Well. That was different.

“Maybe it’s not so strange,” Pathik continued. “Language is an awfully slapdash creation, after all!” And he gave another of his famous laughs.

Azula burned silently.

“In any case,” Pathik said, switching back to a businesslike tone, “let’s start with this: what are your biggest disappointments in yourself?”

She leaned back against the mountain and thought for a bit. “I still don’t see the difference between that and what we did with the second chakra,” she said finally.

Pathik was silent for a few seconds. Then he said, “On further reflection, it’s perhaps accurate to say that guilt mainly concerns your actions, while shame mainly concerns your person.”

Azula considered that. “So it’s like, what am I ashamed at myself for _being_?”

“Very good!” He sounded almost like a proud father. Well, whatever.

“But what am I, really?” Azula said airily, waving her hand for dramatic effect.

She had just wanted to annoy him. Instead, Pathik said with complete seriousness, “I believe you already know the answer to that question, _Avatar_.”

Azula opened her mouth when the realization of his meaning hit her conscious mind. After a few seconds, she said, “You can be a real bastard sometimes, you know.”

* * *

“Father?”

When she entered the room Azula glanced at Father’s desk and felt guilty. There were a lot of papers there, which meant he was very busy. But when Father turned to look at her, he was smiling at her kindly, like always. “What is it, my dear daughter?”

_I guess I’ve interrupted him already_ , Azula told herself, _so it’s okay_. “What’s an Avatar?” she asked.

“Where did you hear that word?” Father asked harshly.

His sudden anger took Azula aback. “I heard some servants talking about what’ll happen when ‘the new Avatar’ comes...” Luckily she had kept from stammering, though she couldn’t keep eye contact.

Father ran his hand over his face and sighed, but when he moved his hand away his face was back to being kind. “It’s earlier than I had planned, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to tell you now.” He pulled up a chair next to him and patted it. “Come sit, Azula.”

Azula was a little hesitant, but Father didn’t seem upset anymore. She walked to the chair and sat down. Father looked at her and didn’t say anything. Azula wasn’t scared though—he wasn’t radiating anger or disapproval; he was merely thinking. So she waited until he was ready to speak.

Finally, he said, “The Avatar is a tricky subject to talk about. At the most basic level, the Avatar is an extremely powerful spirit that takes the form of a human, and reincarnates into a new human when it dies. Do you understand?”

Azula thought about the new word, ‘reincarnates.’ Father never told her what a word’s meaning was; she had to try to guess it first. “Whenever it dies...” she said slowly, “it’s born again?”

Father smiled widely, making Azula smile too. “Very good. Now, most people—well, all foreign barbarians but a large number of Fire Nation citizens too—believe the Avatar is a beneficial force whose role is to maintain the balance of the world.”

She tilted her head. She hadn’t heard ‘balance’ used in that way before, and Father always told her to ask him if she didn’t understand something. “What does that mean, Father?”

He laughed, embarrassing Azula until she realized he wasn’t laughing at her. “I’ve wondered that my entire life,” he said proudly when he finished. That made her feel good again. “Indeed, the common myth doesn’t make a lick of sense. Your grandfather Firelord Azulon and his father, the late Firelord Sozin, realized the same thing. So the next question is,” he leaned down so their eyes were level, “why do so many people believe such an absurd notion?”

“Because people are stupid,” Azula said immediately.

Father smiled again, but with less pride this time. That made her sad. “Correct, but incomplete. It is also because they are afraid. As I said, the Avatar is extremely powerful. To be more specific, it can bend all four elements.”

“ _Really_?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, Azula.” Azula became sad again. “Yes, really. And it’s beyond master-class at each element, too.”

“Not as good as me though, right?” she asked brightly.

Father chuckled and patted her head. “Of course not. But it’s still vastly more powerful than almost all humans. It’s understandable that they’d prefer to think such a mighty being was good instead of evil.”

Azula crossed her arms and looked down, thinking about all Father had told her. “So...” she said slowly, “the Avatar’s evil, then?”

Father regarded her seriously. She did her best to put on her most serious face as well. “The late Firelord Sozin researched the history of the Avatar extensively. I’ll tell you the details when you’re older,” _I hate it when he says that_ , Azula thought, “but I’ll tell you his conclusion now: the Avatar is a being sent from the Spirit World to keep our world _weak_.”

She tilted her head again. She knew a little bit about the Spirit World, but not a lot. “Why would the Spirit World want to do something like that?”

He regarded her seriously again. Azula kept eye contact, making sure to hold her emotions away from her face like Father had taught her. Finally he said, “I have my theories. We can discuss them when you’re older.” _He said it again_ , she thought angrily. “For now, all you have to know is this: the Avatar is a traitor. A traitor that revealed its true colors when it tried to stop the Fire Nation from progressing humanity. It is a dangerous enemy, one I will eventually have to face, as will you.”

Azula nodded. She always made sure to memorize everything Father said while he was in serious mode. He was always right.

“Do you have any other questions?” he asked kindly.

She thought for a bit, then shook her head.

“Good. Now why don’t you go practice your bending while I finish up here? I’ll come train you soon.”

Azula nodded vigorously, then stood up. She walked out of the room and dashed down the hallway, pretending like she was fighting the Avatar as she went.

* * *

“You see these visions too, right?” Azula said, acid in her voice.

“Correct,” Pathik responded shamelessly. Well, if he had opened all his chakras, maybe lack of shame was to be expected. “Incidentally,” he said, “how old were you at that time? I couldn’t quite tell.”

She sighed, leaned back, and tried to remember. “I think five. Maybe six.”

Pathik was silent after that. _At least sometimes he has a modicum of tact_.

“Now what?” she said after a while.

“It seems we’ve discovered the major source of your shame. Now we only have to get rid of it.”

“And how do I do that?”

Pathik cleared his throat. “You cannot deny what you are without—”

“I didn’t ask for the moral of the story.”

“I’ve told you before that I can only guide you, not help you. If you feel you’ve been guided sufficiently, there’s really not much I can do.”

“Other than giving me visions and forcing me to feel all the pain I’ve ever inflicted?”

At least Pathik had the good sense to sound a little contrite. “You eliminated your fear and guilt by yourself, Avatar. As we move through the chakras, purifying them will only become more and more difficult. There truly is nothing else I can do now.”

She couldn’t bring herself to feel annoyed. In fact, right now she didn’t feel anything in particular. Pathik had told her sleeping wouldn’t refresh her until she saw the process through to its end, but she hadn’t expected it to be as _tiring_ as it was. The forced empathy Pathik had done during the previous chakra (how long ago was that?) really had taken a toll. And even if she could complete this one, there were still what, four chakras to go?

_If I gain control of the Avatar State..._

“I’ll try ruminating it on for a while,” she said, “and see if I think of anything.”

* * *

She didn’t think of anything. And she was starting to get sore, sitting in the same position for hours. ( _It has been hours, right? Maybe it’s only been one hour..._ )

“Um, Guru. Not to complain, but sitting in this position is getting uncomfortable.”

“Then why don’t you stand up?” Pathik’s tone conveyed the impression that he thought she belonged to the lowest class of imbeciles.

“But isn’t sitting like this required for meditation, or something?”

“Not really.”

“Then why did you make me do it!?”

“From what I can recall, I made you do nothing. You just copied me.”

Azula thought a bit, sighed, then stood up.

“So have you come to any conclusions?” Pathik asked lightly.

Her mind had been running around in circles, but as she tried to formulate _something_ to say in order not to sound embarrassingly lazy, words involuntarily sprang to her lips. “I understand _intellectually_ what I have to do. I have to discard the lies my father told me, fully accept who I am, etcetera etcetera. But none of that affects how I _feel_.”

“That’s far from uncommon.”

“I suppose.” Azula leaned against the mountainside, feeling the sun’s rays warming her body. “Plus, it’s not just what Ozai told me. Being the Avatar caused me to lose these,” she pointed at her eye sockets, “locked me in a prison for two months, and basically ruined my life. So yeah, I’m pretty damn bitter at the Avatar Spirit, and don’t want to accept it’s actually me.” She paused. “Incidentally, just how is that supposed to work?”

“The Avatar Spirit?”

“I mean, the whole reincarnation thing. I’m supposed to be the same person as my previous...selves, or something, right?”

Pathik hummed. “That is almost but not precisely true. But do go on.”

Azula thought a bit, shook her head, then continued. “Anyway. The thing is, I’m really different from the previous Avatars. So how are we supposed to be the same person?”

“Simple. You share a spirit.”

“Do you have to be incessantly nonsensical in all our conversations?”

Pathik made his annoying humming noise again. Second time in less than a minute; he was setting a record. “Think of it like this. What were you like when you were one year old?”

“...I imagine I was a mewling brat, just like every other baby that’s ever existed.”

“And yet you were the same person then as you are now. Correct?”

Azula considered that. “So you’re saying it’s the same thing with me and the other Avatars?”

“Precisely. You learn quickly.” Pathik sounded almost proud.

“Then what exactly _is_ a spirit?”

Wind brushed against her skin—the result of Pathik stretching his arms out wide. “Now _that_ , Avatar, is the grand mystery of our universe.”

There was silence for a few seconds.

“We’ve gotten off track, haven’t we?” Azula finally said.

“Everything is connected—”

“ _Haven’t_ we?”

Pathik laughed. “If the root of your shame is your relationship with the Avatar Spirit, then perhaps not.”

“Well, in any event, it hasn’t helped.”

“That’s too bad.”

She turned her head to face him straight-on. She grumbled inwardly at being unable to see his expression.

Pathik hummed _again_. She was concerned that she might actually get used to hearing it at this rate. “It appears we have no choice.”

“Please don’t tell me there _was_ something else you could do all along.”

“Not at all. It is something _you_ have to do. I can only teach it.”

Azula tried to dredge up some anger at him for screwing her over with semantic games, _again_ , but all she could muster was a sigh. “And why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

She was expecting to hear another imbecilic proverb, presumably involving patience or what have you. Instead, when he spoke, he sounded almost hesitant. “I was hoping to save it for later chakras. It is a technique that grows less effective the more it is used.”

“But because I’m doing such a crap job with this one, we have no other choice?”

On a conscious level she had meant it as a joke, probably, but the tone that came out was bitter and resentful. Pathik seemed to take it in stride. “If you will,” he said.

“Alright, then. What is it?”

“You will enter your own mind, as it were, confront your shame head-on, and defeat it.”

Azula couldn’t quite figure out what to say.

“Through a particular meditation technique,” Pathik went on, “you will visualize your mind as a great winding cavern, and in it you will find—”

“Okay, two things,” Azula interrupted. “First of all, how can I enter my own mind?”

“It’s a metaphor for self-examination.”

“Yes, I know that. But look, say I come across my shame or whatever. Won’t it still be _in here_ ,” she pointed at her head, “even while I’m confronting it ‘out there’?”

“I don’t see the issue.” Pathik seemed genuinely puzzled.

“Well, it can’t be in both places at once!”

“Why not?”

“It...” Azula checked herself. Then she slapped her forehead. It didn’t hurt as much as she was hoping. Oh, well.

“Are you okay?” Pathik asked, not sounding at all worried.

“Yeah, sure,” she said. “So second, exactly how am I supposed to ‘confront’ my shame?”

“It is different for every person. In your case, if I had to guess, you’ll likely personify it and then engage it in a fight.”

_Well, I suppose that_ does _sound like me_ , Azula thought.

“Any other objections?”

Azula shrugged. _I guess it’s not really worse than any of the other antics he’s pulled so far_. “Not really.”

“Then as I was saying before I was interrupted,” Pathik said, not sounding angry despite his words, “in that cavern you will find objects representing various facets of yourself. I recommend you ignore them and find whatever represents your shame as fast as possible.”

“Why is that?”

“The entire purpose of this exercise is to be able to deal with your mind as if it were an external object. But ultimately, it is still a part of your self. Spend too much time in the cavern and you will get accustomed to it, and then the exercise will be pointless.”

That actually made a little bit of sense, kind of. “I see.”

“Are you up for it?”

“Better than running my mind around in circles.”

“Then I shall teach you the technique. It is actually relatively simple. First...”

* * *

After an hour (two hours?) of attempting to learn the “simple” technique Azula finally found herself standing in what appeared to her eyes (or mind’s eye, or whatever) to be a large cave ( _Oh goodie, I get to see when it isn’t real again_ ). The rough-hewn walls and ceiling of the cavern were illuminated by...well, apparently not by anything in particular; they just kind of glowed. Looking around, the only thing of note she could see was a patch of darkness in the wall across from her, which presumably designated a tunnel of some sort.

_So I guess this is an antechamber or something?_ she thought. Well, nothing to do but to do it. Azula strolled into the tunnel, keeping a lookout for anything that might represent her shame, preparing to look away immediately should she spot anything that...didn’t seem like it represented her shame.

“See, this is why I hate the Spirit World,” she told nobody in particular. “Well, one of the reasons. Everything is so slapdash.”

She soon emerged into a much larger chamber, stretching farther than the eye—mind’s eye, etc.—could see. She could even hear the gargle of a stream somewhere in the endless black, though she couldn’t even begin to guess what _that_ was supposed to be a metaphor of.

There was still nothing of interest to note. Picking a direction at random, she began walking. And walking.

As it turned out, searching the contours of her own mind was, rather ironically, a fairly mindless endeavor. While she walked through the endless tunnels, many things caught the corner of her eye—a ruddy red robe, a faded oil painting, rows upon rows of sparkling swords and spears, to name just a few—but she didn’t think any of them could her shame. Mindful of not getting too “accustomed” to them she didn’t examine them closely, and before long she got the distinct impression that she was walking through a world of shadows which would dissolve back into nothingness if she focused too much on them.

And yet she didn’t really get bored, or frustrated, or even angry at Pathik for the umpteenth time. In fact, she didn’t feel much of anything, just a sort of detached faculty of judgment. Even the feeling of the ground beneath her feet and the sensation of air moving into and out of her lungs went away when she put the slightest bit of attention on them.

Even when the thought _Is this what I’ll always be like after I unlock all the chakras?_ floated across her mind, the only response that registered was _I suppose I should ask Pathik about it later_.

She spent an indefinite amount of time in this state until she stepped into yet another chamber and finally saw something move: a flash of yellow that disappeared into one of the many tunnels. _If it’s moving, maybe there’s something alive here_ , Azula thought, briefly noted that she didn’t think “something _else_ alive here,” then ran after it.

As perhaps should have been expected, the object she was chasing kept at the very edge of her vision, briefly appearing every so often to mock her before disappearing into the blackness again. After a short chase she came across a dead end. The object came into full view.

It was a very large man, in both size and girth—he was at least three heads taller than Azula and almost twice as round. He was wearing a gaudy, bright yellow robe inlaid with ruby and sapphire badger-moles. Complete with a bald head, he almost looked like an egg. But he somehow looked familiar...

“Who are you?” Azula asked, but just as soon as she did she remembered, and all her emotions came rushing back.

The man bowed. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Princess. My name is Shen. You might have heard of me?”

Azula nodded mutely. It was the last earth Avatar, the one right before her.

“What are you—” she started to say, but was interrupted when Shen rushed at her, moving much faster than a man that size should, aiming a punch down at her head that Azula barely managed to avoid. She jabbed her fist forward instinctually, though she wasn’t particularly surprised when nothing came out.

“Can’t firebend in here, sorry,” Shen said, almost apologetically. “After all, we’re in your head.”

“Yeah, I guessed that. Why are you—”

This time, Shen aimed a roundhouse kick at her neck. Azula swerved out of the way and tried to elbow him in the stomach. She made contact, but it had no effect on Shen, who proceeded to smack her in the ribs, palm open. Azula skidded across the ground and slammed into a wall.

While she couldn’t bend in her mind, she could very well feel pain.

“The representation of my shame for being the Avatar is the previous Avatar?” Azula said, trying her best to stand up gracefully. “I had hoped my mind would be more creative.”

“Sometimes what’s simple is what’s best,” Shen said, walking toward her. Azula rolled out of the way of his next punch, which hit the wall instead—and sunk into it with a loud _smash_. It didn’t even get damaged.

Even if he was a metaphor and so could do whatever he wanted, Azula thought that was more than a little unfair.

“So what, I beat you in a fight and that means I’ve overcome my shame?”

Shen shrugged. “I imagine you’ll have to overcome your shame first, and only then will you be able to defeat me.”

Azula considered that while diving away from Shen’s next attack, a downward punch that smashed a hole into the ground this time. “I suppose that makes sense, as far as these things go.”

“You don’t seem to have much hope of beating me now,” Shen said with a smile.

Before Azula could come up with a proper retort, she was forced to devote all her mental energies (despite being inside her mind already, whatever that meant) to dodging the barrage of punches and kicks Shen sent her way next. Soon she was forced to block instead of dodge. When Shen’s fist met her arm she heard, then felt, a loud _crack_ , and the impact sent her flying back. She eventually landed in a heap on the floor, arm aflame and the rest of her body not too well-off either. Shen laughed as Azula bit back a groan.

“Truly sad,” he said, “the princess of the grand Fire Nation, most powerful country in the world, reduced to a pain-wracked mass of flesh.”

Azula stood up, left arm hanging uselessly at her side. “I’m not the princess anymore,” she said, gritting her teeth. “I’m the Avatar.”

“In here, _I’m_ the Avatar,” Shen said, somehow looking both relaxed and intimidating. “Or at least the metaphor for the Avatar. Though you are right that you’re not the princess now. Of course,” he said, and the smile returned, “you were never the Avatar, either. The Avatar Spirit’s the actual Avatar, after all; you’re just one of its many, _many_ incarnations. So what does that make you?” He put on a contemplative pose.

Azula gripped her broken left arm with her right. “So this is how it’s going to go, is it?”

“Of course.” Shen walked up to Azula. She tensed, expecting an attack, but he stopped before getting in range and instead pointed at Azula, his huge finger a short distance away from her face. “You’re nothing. Not the princess, not the Avatar. Just a tool the world uses to keep itself in balance.”

She knew it was bait. She told herself she was just pretending to fall for it and feinted a kick to Shen’s legs, then turned it into a punch aimed at his head. He just grabbed Azula’s own head with one enormous hand and yanked her up and away. She couldn’t stop herself from screaming as all five of Shen’s fingers dug into her forehead, temples, and face.

“This time, you didn’t ask Pathik why shame blocks willpower,” Shen said offhandedly as a number of unpleasant colors smeared Azula’s vision and her immense pain didn’t stop her from feeling blood flowing down her neck. “Did you manage to figure it out on your own?”

Azula screamed and clawed at Shen, but all she could do was flail uselessly; his body was well out of reach.

“I’ll take that as a _no_.” Shen sighed sadly. “Oh well. I’ll tell you, then. It’s not that complicated. If you’re overcome with shame, whether it’s because you’re the Avatar or because, without the Avatar, you’d be useless...” Azula didn’t think it possible, but Shen’s fingers clenched her head even tighter, magnifying the pain twofold. “Then you don’t have the confidence in yourself necessary to do, well, anything.

“You’ve built up a lot of very elaborate walls, but those two months you spent in that prison and those two years you spent failing to airbend are still there. All it takes is one failure and it’ll all come tumbling down.” His tone became lighthearted. “Then again, I suppose you learned _that_ at the North Pole, didn’t you?”

Azula tried to scream, but it came out as more of a groan.

Shen yawned and threw Azula away. She landed on her broken arm, which sent a new cascade of pain throughout her body. Her right hand was wracked with spasms as she raised it to her head to check the damage.

_Not good_ would be an understatement.

At some point, Shen stood over her. “Immense pain seemed to help you with the first and second chakras, but it appears not to be having much of an effect for this one,” he said wistfully. “You can’t always win, I suppose.”

Azula couldn’t even mount a token resistance as Shen placed his foot on her neck.

“Any last words?”

Azula’s mouth moved, but nothing came out.

“Too bad.”

Shen’s foot slammed down. Blood filled Azula’s mouth.

And then, there she was again, looking at Shen’s back.

He turned around. “What the—”

Azula’s fist slashed forward. She decided she didn’t feel like punching Shen into the opposite wall. Instead, she just sunk her hand into his chest and crushed his heart.

Shen’s mouth opened silently and he slumped down against Azula.

“I may be nothing,” she said calmly. “But if you’re just one part of me, what does that make you?”

And Azula could feel her awareness rising up out of her body. She only had a few seconds to look at the scene from an overhead perspective before it got lost in the sea of endless caverns until finally all became black...

* * *

Though sensations returned to her and she once again felt the presence of her body in her being, the blackness remained.

“Congratulations, Avatar,” Pathik said. “You have opened the third chakra.”

Azula grunted.

“Shall we move on to the fourth chakra?” he said cheerfully.

“Before that, I have a question for you.”

“I’ll answer anything, except questions about my age!”

“I wasn’t inside my mind just now, was I?”

She savored the silence that met that question, for the second it lasted. “Whatever makes you think that?” Pathik asked.

“You mean other than the fact that the very concept makes even less sense than everything else we’ve done so far? Other than the fact that there’s no way I could enter my own mind, even if I could I wouldn’t picture it as some huge cave, and even if I did my shame personifying and fighting me comes right out of a two-bit hack’s _kabuki_ script?” Azula lay her head back against the mountainside, drew in a deep breath, and recited: “This time, you didn’t ask Pathik why shame blocks willpower. If you’re too overcome with shame, then you don’t have the confidence in yourself necessary to do, well, anything. And so on.” She stood up. “You did a good job acting, I’ll admit, and I was fooled at the time, but in retrospect it has your fingers all over it, sad to say.”

“Seems like I got caught,” Pathik said. Once again, he at least had the good sense to sound contrite. “I suppose now you know why the technique is less effective the more it’s used.”

“Indeed. So what exactly _did_ you do?” Azula asked.

“Hmmm...” Pathik hummed. _Seems he’s back to the annoying mannerisms_ , Azula thought. It was almost comforting. “To put it simply, we both went into a sort of pocket dimension enclosed from the rest of the Spirit World and—”

“Okay, okay, sorry I asked.”

Pathik laughed.

“Well, you at least got to take perverse pleasure in beating me up. Hope you’re satisfied with that.”

“Technically, you weren’t fighting me, but a projection I made such that...”

Azula sighed as Pathik started leading her to the next location in their chakra quest, blabbering on about Spirit World metaphysics even more incomprehensibly than Aang did. Until something from her time in the ‘pocket dimension’ popped into her mind again.

“Um, Guru?” she asked, interrupted his speech.

“Yes?”

_When I open all the chakras, will I lose all my emotions? Will I become an automaton, doing whatever will bring balance to the world because that’s what I’m supposed to do?_ “...Nevermind. It’s not important.”

“If you say so.”

* * *

**End of Chapter 12**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t plan out the Enlightenment chapters in advance, so I actually have no idea what i’ll do with them until I start writing. The next chakra is love and grief, which ought to be...interesting.
> 
> I’m going to take a one-week break, since I’m running up against my pre-written chapters, so I want to give myself more of a buffer again. The next chapter will be posted two weeks from today (Sunday May 20).
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	14. The Northern Air Temple

Special thanks to my previous beta Lavanya Six, and my current betas Devon and Aurelia Le!

* * *

**The Right to Rule**

An _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ fanfic

* * *

**Chapter 13**

**The Northern Air Temple**

* * *

“The entire time I wanted to yank that damn stick out of his ass,” Otori fumed, knives dancing in her hands.

Jun loosed his arrow; Mongke had quit counting how many times he made the bulls-eye in a row. “Those would be some pretty nasty splinters,” Jun commented.

Otori glared at Mongke. “Explain to me. Again. Why’re we working for _that_?”

He sighed. “I’ve worked with far worse than Zhao, trust me. He has the influence and status to reward us extremely handsomely. So I would strongly advise you not to take anything out of or put anything into his ass.”

The twins giggled. Mongke could never tell which was Hiro and which was Hina. “You’ve been a shit influence on our noble leader,” one of them said, grinning at Otori. She stuck out her tongue, then danced away from a retaliatory blaze of flame.

Jun shot another arrow, got another bulls-eye. “I will admit,” he said, “I do think my talents are wasted shaking down some defenseless civilians.”

“From what I understand, most of the Fire Nation’s newest weapons were designed by the man squatting in that temple,” Mongke said. “So as defenseless civilians go, he’s rather important.”

A twin knelt up and posed, hand on their forehead, with a pained expression on their face. “Lo! The spirits hath dealt me a terrible choice. To spare mine life, I must betray mine country.”

The other twin made a fire whip and cracked it right above the first twin’s head. “I command thee, craven! Offer thy brain, or face the unending darkness of your demise!”

“Nobody ever actually talked that way,” Otori grumbled.

Jun loosed another arrow. This time, it was a tiny bit off the bulls-eye. His eyes narrowed, and he clenched his bow tightly for a bit before relaxing as he nocked the next one.

Suzue, as always, was silently gazing into the distance. Mongke had bought her a giant warhammer at her request (not an easy weapon to get ahold of), but he had yet to see her actually use it. He was a little concerned she didn’t actually know how to fight.

There was time to work on that, though. He had spent some time talking with Zhao’s regular soldiers, and everyone knew the Admiral was intent on invading the Northern Water Tribe. No serious enemy detachments existed between their present location and the North Pole, so they had nothing to worry about for a while yet.

He stole a glance at Otori, who was twirling a dagger around on a string. His heartbeat quickened, just the tiniest amount.

Maybe not _nothing_ to worry about.

* * *

“What can I do for you, Avatar?”

Azula raised the cup of tea to her mouth, inhaled the distinctive scent of coal smoke, and did her best to set it down gracefully. “You know very well why I’m here.”

Sometimes, the lack of visual cues still gave her trouble in social situations. But a blind and deaf toddler could read the man sitting across from her. “I, I only designed weapons for the Fire Nation in order to protect—”

She raised her hand. “I’m sure that’s a very interesting story, but all I really want from you right now is to _stop doing it_.”

She actually already knew the story, and it wasn’t very interesting. Some time ago, a man named...actually, she didn’t remember his name. Whatever. Anyway, some flood destroyed his village, blah blah blah, eventually he somehow lead the survivors to the empty Northern Air Temple. Word got out that he was some sort of genius mechanist, so the Fire Nation accosted him to design weapons for the war effort. She had first heard of this while she was still Princess, but due to the...circumstances...of the time, had forgotten to tell anyone until after she started airbending. Which ended up not mattering that much, because Hakoda didn’t want Ba Sing Se to have control over him either (this impressed Azula a bit: he understood you had to plan for the next war, not just the current one). So instead they decided to make him the final stopover before her ragtag band of merry adventurers reached the North Pole.

“Avatar.” The mechanist’s voice was trembling. “Trust me, I would if I could, but...”

Azula idly tapped her fingers on the tabletop. “You know, I noticed something while chatting with your, I suppose I should call them villagers? None of them even _mentioned_ working for the Fire Nation.” She gave him her sweetest smile. “Does that seem odd to you? You’d think it’d come up.”

“...They’ll be here in two days for more blueprints.” She had to strain to hear him, he was speaking so quietly. “If I don’t give them any...”

“Oh, no need to worry about that,” she said, standing up. “If they attack, their chance of success is zero.”

“...Why do you say that?”

She stomped her left foot down with authority and said, “We’re on top of an ice-covered mountain with only one narrow path leading to us. With master-class benders on your side,” she grinned at him, somewhat less kindly, “this might be the most impregnable defensive location in the world.”

* * *

“You see with earthbending?” Teo asked.

“Something like that,” Toph responded.

Azula had told the people here some story about how they saw a Fire Nation army approaching before they arrived at the temple, and that the army “probably wants to kill you all to use this as a base of operations.” Then she forced Toph and the others to play along. Well, whatever.

“Wow, that’s awesome,” Teo said wistfully.

Arriving at the right spot, Toph began digging another ditch. Azula had assigned her the task of making the road up to the temple as treacherous as possible. Teo had come along for fun.

“Why so gloomy?” she asked as she slowly kneaded the ground out, piling it up into a wall on the side nearer the temple. “Can’t you fly with your chair?”

“It’s not as simple as that. I need gusts of air to ride on, so I can only do it outside and I don’t have full control.”

“My earthbending sight has some limitations too, you know.”

“But it seems like it’s good enough that your everyday life isn’t hindered, right?”

Toph had dug so many ditches by now she barely had to pay attention anymore; the dirt practically moved itself. “I guess. I dunno. I was born this way, so I don’t ever think about it.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve been like this since before I can remember, so I don’t really mind it most of the time. Still though, I can’t deny it makes my life much more difficult.”

Toph grunted. She had reached a particularly firm area of earth; she had to move it up as a single unit since she couldn’t make it flow like sand, and that required a lot more effort. “Everybody’s life is difficult,” she said after she flung it in front of the ditch. “Back in my home city, there are tons of people who barely have enough to eat. On balance, I’d say you have it pretty good here.”

“I know. I’m just a little jealous of you, that’s all. Sorry.”

Toph thought about her mother forbidding anyone from visiting her, her father telling her—in front of the Avatar—that she was going to be watched every hour of every day. She thought about Azula’s plan, and what she’d have to do tomorrow. “Guess I can’t blame you for that,” she said.

* * *

Zhao leaned against the wall of the lift taking him straight to the mechanist's room and sighed. While this _was_ much more convenient than trudging up that damn mountain, it still took a while. Anyone could do this job, really, but of course it wouldn't be _proper_ for a low-ranking soldier to negotiate with such an important war asset, no matter how straightforward that negotiation would be.

The Firelord (glory to his name) said Zhao was only doing this because he “happened to be in the area,” but he still couldn’t help feeling like it was some sort of punishment. At this rate, he was never going to have the chance to invade the North—

The lift stopped. _Might as well get this over with_. “I’m here to collect—”

A blast of water blanketed him, sending him backward and freezing him to the wall.

_What the hell!?_

“Zhao. It’s been a while.”

He turned to the owner of that voice, and his blood ran hot.

The traitor to the Fire Nation. The Avatar.

“What are _you_ doing here!” he yelled.

“I have no reason to tell you that,” she said dismissively. “All I want to tell you is that the mechanist here,” she gestured at the man, who was doing a terrible job at concealing his fear, “is working for me now.”

“Don’t you mean _with_ you?” a young girl slouching on a chair asked.

The Avatar shrugged. “Anyway, as such this temple is under my protection, so if you try to invade it you will all be killed. Naya, you can let him go now.”

A Water Tribe woman nodded, moved her arms, and the ice encasing Zhao melted away.

Zhao rubbed the cold out of his arms and considered his options. Being in such close proximity to the Avatar was a rare chance...but he was also clearly outnumbered. Besides, he had an army down there, and the Avatar was basically trapped on this mountain. Despite her bluster, he actually had her just where he wanted her.

He wasn’t sure why she hadn’t killed him, but if she didn’t before she probably wouldn’t now. So he said, “Before the day is out, Avatar, you’ll be on a ship and sent back to your father. This time, I doubt he’ll leave it at your eyes.” Savoring the momentary look of rage that passed over the Avatar’s face, he turned to the mechanist and said, “You really tossing your lot in with her?”

The man didn’t say anything, just looked down. Zhao rolled his eyes.

“I really suggest you leave now,” the Avatar said in a low voice.

“Pray to the spirits you worship,” Zhao told the gathered audience, “because you’ll be meeting them soon enough.” He sauntered to the lift and took it down.

As the ride stretched on, Zhao’s grin grew wider and wider. He would kill a few people to get the mechanist to back down, wipe out the Avatar’s little escort, _and_ bring the traitor herself back to the Firelord. In the course of a minute, his punishment had transformed into the greatest opportunity he had ever seen. This day was looking very up indeed.

* * *

“Hey, where’s Sokka?”

“He and the mechanist hit it off somehow,” Azula answered. “Imbeciles of a feather flock together, I suppose. Anyway, they’re working on building some sort of flying balloon.”

“Huh. Well, any little bit helps, I suppose,” Toph said.

They were sitting a short distance away from the temple. Azula had melted the snow surrounding them so that their bare feet wouldn’t go numb from the cold. That thought led Azula to reflect on how natural not wearing shoes had become—when she first started doing it she had felt acute embarrassment.

Toph spoke up again. “By the way, is there a reason you let that commander guy go?”

“Zhao?” Azula scoffed. “I met him a few times in the Fire Nation. Trust me, he’s more use to us alive than—”

“It’s started,” Toph interrupted. “They’re approaching the first trench.”

Azula frowned. Toph was still smug that her seismic sense had more range than Azula’s. “Alright. Kalu, go inform everyone. We’ll start the bombing at around the halfway point. Might as well let them tire themselves out first.”

Most of war was waiting, but this battle involved even more waiting than usual. Her battle plan required a large number of enemy soldiers on the mountain to achieve maximum efficiency. Thanks to Toph’s previous handiwork, it was going to take a while for that to happen. A good, long while for all the civilians to get even more nervous before their first-ever battle.

_All they have to do is glide above the enemy and drop stuff_ , Azula thought _. We’re the ones who have the dangerous role._

It took an hour for the enemy to reach the halfway point, at which time Azula ordered the bombing raid to commence. Kalu and Naya talked to a few of the bombers as the operation was proceeding, and reported that it seemed to be going well. They were barely taking any retaliatory barrages.

_That’s weird. Is Zhao keeping his firebenders in reserve? What for?_

“Um, Azula?” Toph asked beside her.

“What?”

“Does the Fire Nation own some sort of mobile house?”

Azula thought for a few seconds. “What do you mean?”

“I can see a really big metal... _thing_ moving down there, so—”

“She probably means the Tundra tank,” Kalu broke in. “The Mechanist showed me some blueprints he kept for himself.”

“Never heard of it,” Azula said offhandedly. “Must’ve been after I left. What are they?”

“As Toph so eloquently put it,” Kalu said pleasantly, “they are big metal things. They run on treads and encase soldiers inside, usually firebenders—there’s an opening that lets them see and shoot fire to the outside.”

Azula nodded. “I don’t see how they’d be much more effective than ordinary soldiers in this situation—”

She was interrupted when her seismic sense perceived many hooks dig into the corner of the cliff.

“They are also equipped with grappling hooks,” Kalu said.

“They’re climbing up the mountain,” Toph added.

Azula sighed, then shrugged. “Looks like we’ll have to unleash our grand surprise early. It’s a shame, but what can you do. Toph?”

“Ready.”

Azula stood up. “Then one, two, and…”

In sync, they put their left feet forward, did the proper _katas_ , then stomped their right feet down.

The mountain rumbled. The fractures they had set up in advance ruptured. Earth pushed against earth, stone smashed stone, and the cliff broke, sending waves of rocks cascading down the mountain, crushing all in their way. After less than a minute, the Fire Nation force on the mountain had been effectively routed.

“Well,” Azula said while rolling her shoulders, “that’s likely the end of it. Honestly, two master-class earthbenders on top of a mountain is...” Her voice trailed off; Toph was not nearly as happy as she would expect. “Toph?”

“Y-yeah?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is...something wrong?”

“No, not really. It’s just...” Toph’s voice took on a strange tone. “How many people do you think died just now?”

Azula could not believe what she had just heard. “Are you kidding? This is _war_ , you know. If they won, what do you think would happen to—”

Her rant was interrupted by another round of hooks implanting themselves into the cliff corner. “Kalu?” she said threateningly.

“I perhaps forgot to mention that they carry two sets of grappling hooks.”

_Lovely_. “Well, I guess we’ll have to be more precise this time around. Ready, Toph?”

She didn’t respond. “Toph!” Azula repeated.

“S-sure. I mean, yes, I am.”

“Then let’s do it. One, two...”

This time, the _katas_ were different. They only knocked away the part of earth that the hooks were attached to, sending the tanks hurtling down again.

Only to reattach themselves with (presumably) the first set of hooks a second later.

“...Okay, I probably should’ve seen that one coming. Kalu, tell the civilians to get inside. The real battle is about to start.”

“Sure thing. And by the way, it’s counterbalanced by water, so I recommend freezing the axles.” With that, Kalu ran off.

“If you don’t want to _kill_ anyone, Toph,” Azula said bitterly, “I suggest you leave now.”

“I don’t _want_ to kill anyone,” Toph responded, just as bitterly. “But I’ll do it anyway.”

“As you will.”

* * *

Zhao punched the side of his personal Tundra tank. It hurt. “An avalanche!?” he roared.

“I warned you this might happen, Admiral,” Mongke said, with an infuriating _told-you-so_ tone.

“I’ve never seen an earthbender cause an _avalanche_ ,” Zhao said, ignoring him. “Even if she’s the Avatar, she’s only fourteen. How was this possible!?”

Mongke shrugged. “She _is_ the Avatar, as you say.”

Zhao paced, trying to silence the fury that was consuming his mind. After a while, Mongke said, “Admiral?”

“Don’t bother, I know what you’re going to ask me.” Zhao had been extremely unimpressed by the mercenary leader’s gaggle of eclectics and forbade them from participating in this attack for fear of them screwing it up. But they could hardly do any harm now. “Fine. Send your group up.”

Mongke bowed absurdly low. “Your wish is my command, Admiral.” He ran off.

_Sure it is_ , Zhao thought. This battle was as good as lost. He glared up at the mountaintop, the temple not even visible from down here at the bottom. All this work, so many good soldiers lost, just to get back some craven inventor who probably wasn’t even needed anymore, if he ever truly was. He should have been killing the Moon by now...

* * *

Azula had not planned for the enemy to even reach the top of the mountain, much less do so with tanks. Now, the foot soldiers weren’t going to be able to support them, and Zhao shouldn’t have too many. On the other hand, the only people who could really fight them effectively were her, Toph, and Naya (Kalu was _decent_ at combat but not against machines).

Kalu had said to freeze their axles, but it was hard to do that from far away, and she would rather not get close to the things if at all possible. So she spent the few seconds it took the tanks to finish scaling the mountain trying to come up with a better stratagem.

All she could think of was “all-out attack with firebending.” Which _did_ tend to work. She could try shooting lightning at them, but the last time she had tried to bend lightning had...not ended well.

She breathed in deeply, began a _kata_ , waited for the first tank to finish climbing up, and launched a huge blast of fire as soon as it righted itself onto the mountaintop.

A screech of pain graced her ears, confirming that the fire had entered the opening in the tank. Pleased, she bent the ground underneath it upwards and back, sending it toppling off the mountain. The tank’s operators now had more things to worry about than rappelling back up to the top.

Air currents brushing against her skin and a slight increase of heat in the air alerted her that a fireball was approaching. She snuffed it with a wave of the hand and a gust of wind, then counterattacked with one of her own. The tank stopped, but she didn’t hear any screams of pain, so she stomped one foot, then the other, raised her arms, and moved the earth under the tank upward, flipping it over and landing it on its back.

She felt a surge of pride, and then the tank started moving forward again.

A thought popped into her mind: _Well, look at that_. _The Fire Nation really is centuries ahead of everyone else in technology. Do they really think they can win this war?_

Azula shook her head furiously. _What the hell was that!? The Fire Nation is the_ enemy _now!_ Angry at herself, she raised her hand up, bringing a large mound of snow with it, then slashed, drenching the tank with water. Breathing in, she airbent a veritable tornado at the tank, freezing all the water and rendering it immobile.

She put her hands on her knees and tried to catch her breath. She felt rather considerable shame for having let her emotions take advantage of her like that. She couldn’t waste that amount of energy to destroy every tank.

And from looking, there were a _lot_ of them. Naya was doing well, but her abilities lay more in precision than in brute power; she was only attacking one at a time. Kalu couldn’t do that much, of course. And Toph...

“What in Agni’s name are you doing, Toph!?” Azula shouted.

“I’m trying to deal with these tanks,” Toph grunted. “You should too.”

“Really? Because from what I can tell—” Azula paused to send a stream of fire at the newest tank that breached the cliff, burning the operator and sending the tank hurtling back down the mountain in one go—“you’re throwing rocks at them! Yeah, that’ll work well.”

“I’m trying to block the opening.”

“You can’t _see_ the opening!”

“You have a better idea!?”

A tank was approaching them. Careful to only use as much strength as necessary, Azula covered its axles with water and blew on the water to freeze it. “How about you bend a _big_ rock up and crush them?”

“That would take too long and require too much energy,” Toph said in a monotone. “This is more efficient.”

Azula could’ve hit her, if she wasn’t too busy deflecting fireballs and counterattacking with her own flames. Despite their efforts, the tanks were only increasing, their attacks were becoming more constant, and the situation was starting to look quite bad. “Cut the crap! You just don’t want to kill them!”

“I _don’t_!” Toph screamed, and Azula could’ve sworn the earth under them swayed a little. “Just now was the first time I killed anyone, okay! I’m sorry that I’m not an unfeeling monster like you!”

When Azula regained awareness, her fist was stinging from its impact with Toph’s face. Toph herself was sprawled on the ground.

_Damn it! This isn’t the time, Azula!_ She felt she should say something, but she couldn’t think of what. Instead, she tried to bend some more water onto a tank, but doing that while simultaneously blocking their attacks was difficult even for her.

Toph stood up and mumbled something.

“What was that?” she asked, slowly making an icy claw grasp one of the tank’s axles.

“I said _fine_! If you want death, have at it!”

Toph stomped one foot. A piece of earth rose up. She stomped the other, and a second piece joined the first. They flew, slamming into two of the tanks and sending them flying—into each other. The tanks collapsed in a heap.

Azula froze the second axle.

“Are you happy now!?” Toph screamed.

_I’m never happy_ , Azula thought.

Well. Be that as it may, the military situation wasn’t actually as bad as Azula had feared. Zhao had sent all his tanks up in one go. The attack was already starting to let up, and it didn’t take them long (even Kalu managed to somehow sneak into one of them and take out the soldiers inside) to destroy the remaining tanks.

After Naya took care of the final one, the four of them gathered together.

“Do you see any more of them?” Naya asked.

“There are two more coming up,” Toph answered.

They were all exhausted (except Kalu). But the battle was almost over.

“Alright,” Azula said. “Naya and I will deal with them, and then we’ll have won. We won’t even need Sokka’s balloon thing. Ready, Naya?”

She guessed Naya was presenting her a withering glare. “Is that an insult? Of course I am.”

“Just making sure. They’re almost here.”

As the tanks crested the cliff, Azula did the proper _katas_ , moved some water up, and—

Air currents brushed her skin; an arrow was flying right at her. She desperately bent wind, and managed to deflect it...almost. It grazed her right arm.

“Get back!” she yelled, and bent a high wall of rock in front of them as a stopgap measure.

The others ran toward her. Naya spoke first. “What’s—”

“If I’m right,” Azula interrupted, “they have a Yuyan Archer.”

A brief moment of silence. “Are you sure?” Kalu asked.

“The aim was perfect. We’ll have to be careful with these ones.” So many thoughts filled her mind it felt like it was overheating. She opened her mouth to give orders, then her legs fell out from under her, and she had to put a hand on her earthbent wall to support herself.

“What’s wrong?” Toph asked.

“Oh no. No, you’re kidding me,” Azula murmured, grasping at the scratch the arrow had made.

“What is it?”

She proffered a weak, ironic smile. “That arrow was poisoned.”

* * *

Toph stood stock-still as Kalu ran toward Azula and crouched down.

“How is it, Kalu?” Azula asked.

“There’s only so much I can do on the battlefield.” For the first time in Toph’s memory, Kalu’s voice sounded strained, almost panicky. “How does it feel?”

“We don’t have time for this,” Azula said. “Do as much as you can to stop it from spreading.” Kalu pulled things out of his pockets. “We’ll just have to kill them quickly. Toph!”

“Y-yes?”

“I’m...having a little bit of trouble concentrating. How many are there?”

Toph gulped, and trying her best to ignore the knots her stomach was tying itself into, focused on her seismic sense. “Two tanks. Four people left the tanks. I...don’t know if one of them’s the archer.”

“How many—unh!” Azula stumbled, but she righted herself quickly. “How many of the tanks are moving?”

“...Only one.”

“So the other was abandoned. That’s...” Azula was breathing heavily now. “That’s something. Okay, we need some intelligence on them, so—”

Suddenly, the temperature around Toph went from cold to _blazing hot_. She almost felt like she was being cooked alive for a few seconds before it went away again just as suddenly. “What was that!?”

“Huge waves of flame erupted from the sides and top of the wall,” Kalu said.

“Firebenders,” Naya spat. Then, sounding surprised, she said, “Azula?”

“...How much fire was there?” Azula asked.

“As far as the eye could see,” Kalu said.

“...That shouldn’t be possible,” Azula almost whispered. “I’ve never seen someone bend so much fire. Not even me.”

Naya said, voice hard as steel, “So we have a master archer with poisoned arrows, a firebender stronger than the Avatar, and at least three others?”

“We don’t _know_ because we have no _information_!” Azula shouted, banging her fist against the wall. “And if we try to _get_ information—”

Her point was punctuated by another few seconds of intense heat.

“They’ve got us pinned down,” Kalu said.

“Toph! What are their movements?” Azula demanded.

Toph gulped and concentrated. “Two of them are standing directly opposite us. The other two are each moving to our sides, diagonally. The tank is far back and to the left.”

“Alright.” Azula leaned against the wall and slid down. “The fire was centered on us, so the two opposite us are probably firebenders working together. Toph, bend some rocks and harry the ones who are moving. They’ll probably— _unh_!—dodge but we shouldn’t let them go unmolested. Naya...um, get some ice daggers ready to send at anyone who enters your field of vision. Kalu...keep treating me, and when you’ve done all you can try to get a look at the field without getting yourself killed.”

Another round of heat. This one lasted twice as long as the previous two.

With sweat dripping from her body, Toph stomped her foot, knocking four rocks up out of the ground.

* * *

“Alright, little Avatar. I’ve done all I can.”

Azula’s breath was rough and ragged. Her seismic sense was grainy and weak, like it was during the first few weeks she had been learning it. She couldn’t feel her right arm at all anymore, and she had to focus most of her concentration just to think. “What’s the prognosis?” she asked, making her voice as low as she could.

“I used waterbending to arrest the poison’s spread,” Kalu said, voice similarly low, “but I need a few days to cleanse it from your system. For now you should live, but you’ll probably slowly get worse until I put you to sleep.”

Azula nodded slowly. “Alright. Play along.” She stood up, cleared her throat, and addressed the others. “I’m not sunshine and roses, but Kalu says I can fight. What’s the situation?”

“Is that true, Kalu?” Naya asked.

She looked at him expectantly. He must understand: the fewer of them who knew how badly off she truly was, the better. “She is the Avatar, after all,” Kalu said.

After a pause, Naya said, “We’re at a stalemate.”

“I can stop them from coming forward by attacking them when they move,” Toph said, sounding almost as tired as Azula felt, “but that’s about it. And they’re still—”

A drastic increase of temperature indicated that the firebenders had launched another attack.

“—doing that.”

Azula bit her lip, hoping the pain would help her focus, and her hand (the left one, of course, she couldn’t move her right) rose to her eye socket and started scratching. She didn’t feel like stopping it. “Okay,” she said, putting an effort to sound decisive and fully awake, “our biggest problem is a lack of information. So let’s try this. Follow me.”

With that, Azula dove to the right, outside the earthbent wall.

* * *

Naya didn’t have time to think. All she could do was follow the Avatar. Which was, of course, the point.

As soon as they left the safety of the wall, a tsunami of flame raced toward them. The Avatar rotated her left arm in a wide circle, and right before the fire hit a bubble of wind gusted around the four of them, shunting the fire to its sides, top, and back.

It was an island of safety in a sea of flame.

“Did you think this through!?” Toph yelled, her voice barely audible over the roar of the flames and wind.

“No time!” the Avatar shouted back, arm still rotating, the sweat leaking from her body visible even against the backdrop of red and orange. “Follow!”

She ran forward. Naya and the others had no choice but to obey. Then suddenly, the fire stopped.

Something caused Naya to move. Maybe it was intuition, or instinct honed through years of combat. It might even have been spiritual inspiration. Whatever it was, Naya started moving as soon as the fire cut out, and shoved the Avatar to the ground.

As she was falling, an arrow passed a hair’s breadth over her head.

“Wall!” she called out before she hit the ground. An earthen wall rose before them just in time to block the next blast of fire.

She stood up, and then helped the Avatar up. She expected protestations, but instead the Avatar just said, “Take the wall down on three, Toph.”

Naya swallowed. “There was an arrow—”

“I know. Now shut up and follow. One,” she started rotating her arm again, “two—”

Kalu said, “Wait.”

“ _What_!?”

He pointed and told Naya, “Look.”

She did, and her heart sank at what she saw.

“Could you eyes-havers _please_ let us know—”

“It’s Sokka’s balloon,” Naya said. “Looks like they’re ready.”

“And they’re kind of sitting turtle-ducks up there,” Kalu commented.

“...All the more reason for us to make something happen _now_. Toph, wall down!”

She bent more air, and the wall came down. As soon as it did, the fire stopped. This time nobody needed any help to duck.

No arrow came.

Another wall arose, and immediately afterward she heard an arrow _clunk_ against it. Any later, and one of them would’ve gotten shot while they were lying down, defenseless.

The Avatar screamed incoherently as yet another wave of fire crashed against the wall.

She stopped shortly, but Naya and Kalu were speechless. Even Toph only said, “Azula?”

“I’m poisoned, they’ve got master firebenders, we’re completely pinned down by the archer, and our only reinforcement is going to be shot down in seconds!” The Avatar was almost screeching now. “Don’t you understand? We’re all going to die!”

Naya looked at Kalu and Toph. Kalu’s face was ice. Toph was clenching her fists so tightly that blood was dripping from her fingers. She looked back at the Avatar, her forehead resting on the wall, hair in disarray, right arm hanging uselessly at her side, and for the first time in a very long time Naya felt pity for her.

Her mouth started moving. “We need to take out the archer, then?” it said.

The Avatar barked a short laugh. “Yeah, but I can’t think of a way to—what are you doing?”

She moved to the edge of the wall. Fire licked her skin. She bent down, picked up some of the snow, bent it into water, then three small ice daggers.

The flames went away a second later. As soon as they did, she stepped outside.

From the previous arrows’ trajectories, she had a very good idea of where the archer was. As soon as she entered the enemy’s visibility, she threw the ice daggers.

Time slowed. She saw that he was inside a tank, a larger opening than normal cut in it, presumably to allow him maximum visibility and flexibility.

They each had an advantage in this contest. His arrow traveled faster, and would take her out of combat no matter where it hit. However, she was able to alter her ice daggers’ trajectories in midair. This meant she could shoot before she saw him, and hence she had the first move.

She directed her ice daggers into the archer’s neck and chest. She felt satisfaction as his arrow slammed into her gut and darkness overtook her.

* * *

Azula wasn’t sure what precisely she felt when she sensed Naya step outside, then fall down. Whatever it was, she shoved it somewhere deep inside. It wasn’t helpful in the current situation.

“The archer?” she demanded.

Kalu hesitated, but approached the edge of the wall. “I’m...not sure, but—”

Azula clenched her fist. “If Naya missed, we’re screwed anyway. So let’s assume she hit. In which case.” She stomped her foot, broke the wall up out of the ground, then pushed her hand forward, sending it at the firebenders.

The wind told her more projectiles were coming, but they were much larger and slower than arrows. She airbent them aside with one swipe of the hand; when they hit the ground, she saw them to be something like daggers.

It was taking an effort just to stand up straight now. Even assuming the archer was dead, they were still at a disadvantage with those firebenders out there. How could she…?

The decision was stolen from her when she felt the next fire attack.

This one wasn’t a huge wave like the others. It was much more concentrated—about as wide as her torso—and far hotter. This thing would punch right through her wind, and she didn’t have enough time to block it with an earthen wall. So there was only one thing to do.

She stuck her left arm out and used her own firebending to make it stop.

Even at full strength, Azula might not have been able to deflect or weaken it. Right now, all she could do was prevent its movements. Even then, the amount of _chi_ she had to put into her arm was straining it to the breaking point. It was soon going to become as useless as her right.

The two other enemies ran toward them, and she had to rely on Toph and Kalu to fend them off.

* * *

Kalu finally got a good look at their adversaries. But he didn’t have nearly enough time to conduct an adequate analysis. So he stuck to the surface details.

The firebenders were a pair of twins with long hair and even longer robes. Of the other two, one was a small, lithe woman holding a knife in each hand. The other was a giant with a warhammer.

He knew which one _he_ would rather fight.

“I’ve got the one on the left. Watch out for the right woman’s warhammer,” he told Toph, and walked toward the knife woman, wielding his own knife in his right hand and an elementary water whip in his left.

He attacked her with the whip when she came in range. She ducked and rolled under it, then sprang up to aim a knife at his throat. He managed to block it, but her other knife sank into his waist.

He bent some water out of his pouch and used it to push her away. Racing back, he used more water to apply emergency healing to his wound. But the woman recovered quickly, and he couldn’t finish before he was forced to block again.

Her arms were blurs. He could barely keep up with one of the knives, and the other easily cut through any feeble ice barriers he made. It cut into his arms, knees, torso, thighs...

This wasn’t working. He was no fighter. In a few seconds he would be dead. He needed to approach this from a different direction.

His dagger moved down and right to block her next blow. But he went too far, and his left was now wide open. Grinning, the woman slid over to that side, knives aimed at his waist and armpit.

He had been so terrible at fighting she didn’t expect a feint.

His left leg kicked forward, moving the snow she was standing on. Off-balance in the middle of her attack, she slipped and fell onto her face.

As she hit the ground, she stabbed one of her knives into his foot. He ignored that, and moved his arms in a circle to cover her in snow like a cocoon, then pushed them forward, sending her flying back toward the firebenders.

The world spun around him, and Kalu barely managed to break his fall with his hands. With adrenaline no longer surging, he could barely move. Blood was draining quickly from his many wounds, and he could barely move his hands to apply emergency treatment.

With Azula and Toph preoccupied, it was now all up to...Sokka.

_We’re all going to die._

* * *

Toph didn’t have time to argue as Kalu dashed off. She was tired, cranky, worried about everyone, and pissed off at just about every _thing_.

Somehow she managed to force her attention onto her opponent.

When she had been harrying them earlier, the other woman had dodged her rocks; this one, though, had just let them bounce off her, like she was made of metal. This time, Toph tried moving the ground under her to trip her up, but she was built so heavily she wasn’t even fazed. Next, she tried bending up a wall, but the woman immediately smashed it to bits with her (according to Kalu) warhammer.

For the first time in her life, Toph was faced with a one-on-one fight she wasn’t sure she could win.

She was close now. Toph dodged backward just in time to avoid the warhammer’s downward swing, but the tremors from the impact made her tumble to the ground. She tried bending the earth up to encase the woman’s hammer, but she broke it out easily.

Toph scrambled up and dove out of the way of the enemy’s next attack. She avoided it again, but not by as much. She fell from the tremors and rolled some distance along the ground.

The woman was right next to her now. Unable to think of anything else, Toph encased herself in rock.

The hammer came down. It bashed in her shell and struck her chest. All the air in her lungs going out at once was almost as painful as her ribs cracking.

But she wasn’t dead, not yet. And she didn’t need air to earthbend.

While the woman was attacking, Toph had bent earth around her feet and ankles. Toph clenched her fists, and the earth broke off and rose up, flipping the woman upside-down. She moved her legs and sent the earth flying, taking the woman with it, right into the wall she created next.

Toph finally breathed in, then cried out in pain. She tried to stand up, but couldn’t summon the strength. She was barely even able to see anymore.

She remembered all the people she had killed today, but didn’t even have the energy to cry.

* * *

Azula screamed in pain and frustration as her feet slid backward a little more.

She couldn’t sense anything. She couldn’t _think_ anything. She had no idea what was going on. By all rights she should be unconscious or dead by now. Instead, here she was, barely managing to block the most powerful firebending move she had ever experienced, Ozai included. And as soon as she flinched, she _would_ die.

_So I won’t be killed in a grand battle or a duel with my father, but by someone I’ve never met on a spirits-forsaken mountain defending people I don’t even care about. Wonderful._

In her current state, she could barely resist the temptation to just...let...go...

* * *

A small sphere descended onto the battlefield.

It had originally been Azula’s idea, though Sokka and the mechanist had refined it thoroughly. It was a small bag filled with a fluid that contained explosive properties if it came into contact with fire. The original plan had been for Azula herself to set it off, but she was presently occupied. However, a suitable substitute had made itself obvious.

When the bag came into contact with the enemy firebenders’ attack, the mountaintop rang with the cry of fireworks.

“Yes!” Sokka shouted. “I _told_ you we needed to wait for the right time!”

* * *

Whether by design or serendipity, both Kalu and Toph had managed to push their opponents close to the firebenders, so all four remaining enemies were caught in the explosion. But, unless they were extraordinarily lucky, there was still one stage left in this battle.

As the explosion sounded, Kalu limped over to Azula. Unsurprisingly, she had finally passed out. He stood her up and, though it wasn’t medically good for her, poked a few pressure points with his knife and waterbending that made her legs stiffen, enabling him to stand her up. Her lack of eyes was a blessing now: they wouldn’t be able to tell she was unconscious.

When the smoke cleared, he saw that the two firebenders were on the ground unmoving. That was good news, at least. But the other two were still standing. The knife woman was pretty ragged-looking and seemed extremely pissed off. The warhammer woman was somehow completely uninjured. When he saw that, Kalu was certain for a brief second that he was about to die.

The knife woman started moving toward him, but the warhammer woman put a hand on her shoulder and shook her head. “If this continues, Hiro and Hina will die too,” she said.

Glaring, the knife woman looked down at the firebenders, back at the tank with the (presumably dead) archer, up at the balloon, then forward at Azula. “You’re going to pay for this,” she spat. She turned around and entered the tank with the dead archer. The giant said nothing more as she picked up the firebenders and climbed into the empty tank. They rode the vehicles down the mountain.

Kalu allowed himself to close his eyes for a second, breathe in, and breathe out.

Then he tapped Azula’s pressure points again, letting her lie on the ground, and ran over to Naya to assess her condition.

Warriors got to rest at the end of the battle, but a healer’s work was never done.

* * *

When Azula regained consciousness, she was lying on a bed. That explained why she couldn’t sense much, at least.

“Would anyone happen to be here?” she asked, voice raspy from lack of use.

“Oh, you’re awake, little Avatar,” Kalu’s voice said. “Would you mind keeping still? I was in the middle of an examination.”

Azula sighed inwardly, but knew better than to argue with him while he was treating her.

A few minutes of poking and prodding later, Kalu said, “Alright, done.”

“How am I?”

“Basically healthy. You didn’t have many physical injuries; just the poison, really, and I’ve already flushed that out of your system. Now I think you just need some rest—that battle was taxing, to say the least—but you should be up and about soon enough.”

She nodded. “How are the others?”

“Toph has a few cracked ribs, but waterbending’s good at healing that. I got to her quick so I was able to set her bones and start them healing relatively easily. Her chest area will be sore for a few weeks as the ribs heal, and it’ll probably be uncomfortable to breathe during that time, but she should make a full recovery eventually. As for me, I had a number of cuts but nothing too deep. The enemy got me good on my foot though, so I’ll be limping for a while.”

“...And Naya?”

Kalu paused. “She took a poisoned arrow to the stomach. That’s extremely dangerous even if I had gotten to her immediately. Because of the delay caused by the battle...”

Azula nodded again. He didn’t have to say it.

“...she’ll be bedridden for some time,” Kalu finished.

“...Bedridden?”

“Yes. What did you think I was going to say?” He seemed inordinately pleased with himself.

“But, you said—”

“Don’t get me wrong, an arrow in the abdomen is no laughing matter, but it’s not fatal if it’s treated in a reasonable timeframe. And the poison was meant for you, little Avatar, which means it wasn’t fatal; the Firelord wants you alive, after all. She’ll be fine.”

Azula clenched and unclenched her left fist; her right arm still felt weak. “As soon as I’m better, I am going to kill you. Haven’t decided how yet, except that it’ll be very long and painful.”

Kalu laughed and patted her head. “Looking forward to it. Now I’m going to go check on Naya. You should get some more sleep, little Avatar.” He was still laughing as he walked out of the room.

Azula tried to get into a comfortable position and swore to herself that she was never coming to this mountain again.

* * *

Once Azula (somewhat) fully recovered, she confirmed the details of their arrangement with the mechanist—design new weapons for the Water Tribes instead of the Fire Nation, not exactly complicated—and then was prepared to finally leave for the North Pole.

“Ah, before you go, Avatar, there’s one more thing I think I should tell you...” the mechanist said.

“What is it?” Azula asked, mostly succeeding at hiding her annoyance.

“Most of the time, the Fire Nation didn’t give me detailed instructions for which weapons to design. There was...one exception.”

She wasn’t liking his tone. “Yes?”

“Approximately a year ago, they asked me to design a...drill.”

“A _drill_?”

The mechanist was even more nervous than usual. “Yes. A giant drill, to be specific. I...can only really think of one use such a machine would have. And...well. Some of the people here fly out to do trade and the like, and one of them told me they received information that the Fire Nation brought a giant drill to the Earth Kingdom a few days ago.”

Azula considered the matter, but not for long. “I’m going to have some choice words for you once this war is over,” she growled and stormed toward the door.

“Wait!” the mechanist yelled.

“What!?”

“...You can take the war balloon.”

So it transpired that Azula found herself traveling with Toph and Sokka (Kalu stayed behind to treat Naya) back to Ba Sing Se, riding in a balloon, fuming the entire way.

* * *

After that disastrous battle, Zhao had ordered Mongke and his group to take their komodo rhinos back down south. Apparently the Fire Nation high command was looking to finally conquer Ba Sing Se, and they were siphoning troops from every commander in the world for that project. Mongke personally suspected this was a last-ditch attempt to turn around a war that was going increasingly badly. Regardless, Zhao had not been happy when Mongke reported the events that occurred at the temple (as told to him by Otori)—he was especially furious that they had retreated instead of fighting to the death—so he seemed to take this as an opportunity to get rid of Mongke and his team.

His plan to impress Zhao and retire soon was in dire straits. But as usual, he didn’t particularly feel one way or another about that. One of his subordinates died, and as usual, he didn’t particularly feel one way or another.

The others, however...Hiro and Hina had done almost a complete 180, and were now almost as silent as Suzue. Suzue herself was spending as much time alone as possible. And Otori…

They had set up camp for the night. Suzue had left to do Agni-knows what, and the twins had ensconced themselves in their tent as soon as they arrived. Otori was presently sharpening her (many) knives and daggers by the fire. She was smiling, as always, but it wasn’t friendly or malicious—it was almost _contemplative_. Mongke sat across from her and just watched, not thinking about anything in particular.

“I knew.”

Otori’s voice yanked him out of his reverie.

“I knew this was a dangerous job.” Her words were punctuated by the scrape of metal against metal. “I mean. My old job wasn’t exactly safe either. I never really cared that much whether I lived or died. I guess. It was about the _thrill_. Feeling excitement every day. You get me?”

Her muddy green eyes shone as they reflected the fire. Mongke felt lightheaded. He had always felt some trepidation dealing with his new team, even now, but for some reason, this night, this fire, was melting that away. “I don’t. I don’t feel much of anything. I’m not really sure what I care about.”

“Hm.” He couldn’t read her expression. “I suppose I’m the same, now.” She scraped her knife on the sharpener hard; the shriek hurt Mongke’s ears. “Damn. Jun’s death is really fucking me up. We weren’t even that close. _Shit_.”

She dropped the knives and sharpener and stared at the sky. Mongke gazed into the fire. They remained like that for a while.

“Wanna fuck?”

Mongke’s head snapped up to look at her. She wasn’t smiling.

“I’ve seen you steal glances at me. You want to fuck me, right? So let’s do it.”

He gaped. While he was very much not a virgin, he had never been... _propositioned_ like this.

“You _don’t_ want to?”

“No, I do, I...this is just...sudden.”

“Exactly.” She stood up. Her short brown hair blew in the wind as she rounded the fire. As she approached him she took out knives from inside her clothing and dropped them, dozens of them, a chorus of metal. She stood above him, with an intense look on her face. She still wasn’t smiling. “Sudden. That’s why it’s exciting.”

* * *

**End Chapter 13**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last full chapter I had already written, so we’ve reached an end of sorts. Not the end of the fanfic, though; I’m committed to seeing this one through. That said, I think I’ll stick to a once-every-two-weeks update schedule for the time being, especially since IRL stuff is starting to heat up for me.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	15. Rebirth

Special thanks to my previous beta Lavanya Six, and my current betas Devon and Aurelia Le!

**Timeline Note:** The time this chapter takes place will be made clear in due course.

* * *

**The Right to Rule**

An _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ fanfic

* * *

**Chapter 14**

**Rebirth**

* * *

Azula stepped into another puddle of swamp muck and groaned. She couldn’t remember why she had ever thought this would be a good idea.

During the last step of her... _training_ with Pathik two weeks ago, she had seen (as in, actually _seen_ , as if she had eyes again) many things, but the one that was relevant to her present purpose was a group of bison like the one Aang rode living in the depths of the huge swamp that festered like a wart in the center of the world. After consulting with the century-old Air Nomad brat, a plan was formulated and off Azula went.

She had actually been looking forward to this, enough so that she didn't even bother to check in with Toph, Iroh, or anyone else. Being able to fly around would drastically increase her travel speed, so she figured it would be just as fast to find the bison first. Besides, she didn’t want to let anyone else know about them—she figured this was the kind of military technology the Avatar should monopolize.

Then she got to the swamp.

Neither she, nor anyone she knew, had ever been to the swamp. Mainly because it was completely worthless from every possible point of view. She had read about it in scrolls, sure, but all the scrolls had neglected to mention or properly emphasize some key points:

It was huge. There was nobody there. And _holy Agni_ was it the most disgusting place she had ever encountered or imagined.

The spongy sensation of mud and dirty water caressing her legs. The constant plopping of frog-beetles, buzzing of cicada-bees, and chittering of she didn’t want to know. The taste of dirt and waste that stuck to her tongue.

And above all the smell, the constant _smell_! Garbage mixed with rotting corpses mixed with decay and death. It haunted her dreams even more than it did her waking hours.

Oh right, did she mention it was _huge_ ? Good, because it was, and she couldn’t quite remember just _where_ the bison were, and she had already spent four days in this wasteland and hadn’t gotten anywhere closer to her goal. The hideously overgrown vegetation, which required her to cut off branches and burn away bushes constantly in order to proceed in an orderly fashion, didn’t exactly help matters.

So that night, after the fourth day of pointless searching, she had finally had enough. She didn’t want to use the Avatar State—it would apparently create a random pillar of light (seriously, what was up with that? She wasn’t aware _lightbending_ was a thing), and who knows what people might think if they saw that—but she was too tired and cranky to care at the moment.

She sat down under the nearest tree (landing right into a puddle of mud, of course) and meditated.

It took a while, since she was pretty inexperienced at it, but her memories from the time with Pathik slowly returned.

And it happened.

* * *

Some time later—it was hard to say exactly how much—Azula punched the tree hard enough to break her skin.

_Of course. Of_ course _it wouldn’t be that easy. Why did I ever think otherwise?_

The Avatar State increased her perceptual range significantly with its drastically enhanced earth- and airbending. But the swamp was soft and stagnant enough that her vision was still severely limited.

In other words, she still couldn’t sense the bison.

She sighed deeply and pushed herself away from the tree (pulling some rotten wood with her, to her great delight). She was too tired to even harbor proper contempt for the Avatar State, which proved to be utterly useless the first time (second? Had she actually entered the Avatar State with Pathik? Whatever...) she actually had control over it. So she found some ground that seemed relatively firm, lay out her sleeping bag, and let the night take her.

* * *

When she woke up, she could see. Like, with her eyes.

After looking around a bit in confusion at the utterly uninteresting green and brown fauna around her, she slapped her forehead.

_Great. The Spirit World._

“Aang?” she called out while standing up. “Kid! Bratty old man! You must be here somewhere; you never have anything important to do except bother me. Aang!”

The only sound she heard was the faint buzzing of cicada-bees.

“...Aang?” There wasn’t even an echo.

She had never been alone in the Spirit World before. As much as Aang annoyed her, being all alone when she was unable to bend, and therefore vulnerable to whatever predations the Spirit World contained, did cause a certain amount of unease.

Azula shook her head. She was an awakened Avatar now; she had already eliminated all her earthly attachments. There was no fear left for her to feel. With that resolution in mind, she starting walking in an arbitrary direction, expecting that the Spirit World would eventually show her what it wanted to show her.

Without Aang around to distract her, Azula focused all her attention on the Spirit World itself. It was strange, to say the least. While she did feel dead leaves crumble and mud squish under her feet, smell faint traces of burning wood, hear the burbling of stagnant water, and taste the permeating heavy air, it was all... _hollow_ , somehow. Without substance. Like all of reality was just a _kabuki_ play, and not even one put on for her edification, just non-existent actors pretending to be real out of whimsy.

She saw a lot of things too, of course. But maybe because she had gotten so used to “seeing” with earthbending and airbending, all the sights lacked even the hollow reality of the other senses. They were just... _there_ , like a backdrop or a facade.

It had only been a few years since she lost her eyesight. Had she really become detached from it so quickly?

The cicada-bees buzzing away any sense of time, Azula was just about to try sitting down and meditating again when a flash of black hair caught her eye.

Without even really thinking about it, she ran after it, some part of her registering that the hair was very familiar...but she soon arrived at a dead end, seeing nothing.

She didn’t have much time to consider her twin feelings of disappointment and relief when she heard a voice behind her.

“Azula.”

She turned around automatically, then barely managed to suppress a gasp at who it was.

“Mai?”

Mai didn’t blink. “Thanks for remembering my name.”

Azula closed her eyes...or eyeholes...angrily. It didn’t help; she could still see everything perfectly. _Well, I_ am _seeing with my spirit or whatever, after all_ , she thought, then became extremely irritated. _This is ridiculous. The girl in front of me is clearly ten or eleven._ _Must be some sort of spirit, using my memory to take her form_. “Who are you?” she demanded.

“You just said who I was,” the spirit said.

Her voice and posture and expression were all just as downcast and melancholy as the real Mai’s. It was disturbing.

Azula clenched her fist. _What am I doing? I shouldn’t be getting scared at some spirit; with my chakras open, I shouldn’t be feeling fear at all_. “Tell me what your purpose is,” she said, hoping she sounded appropriately authoritative, “or—”

“To tell you something,” not-child-Mai said.

“Huh?”

“I’m here to tell you something.” Not-child-Mai was still staring at her, not having blinked once. The deadpan expression was growing more and more off-putting. “I just wanted you to know that I’ve always hated you.”

_Oh, I see what this is._ Apparently Pathik wasn’t the only one who enjoyed dredging up things that were better left buried. “So what,” Azula said, “are you supposed to represent my self-loathing or—”

“When I get the chance,” not-child-Mai interrupted her, “I’m going to cut off your nose and your tongue.” She continued staring, still not blinking, face inscrutable, body unmoving. “I’ll burn your arms to cinders, peel all the flesh from your legs, then take a sword and—”

Azula ran to not-child-Mai and punched her in the head. But the spirit disappeared before she could touch it, and her fist merely passed through air.

Before she could get angry with herself for being an imbecile, she heard a new voice from behind. “How shameful,” it said. “And here I thought you had let go of all worldly attachments.”

So that black hair had indeed belonged to who she thought. Feeling a creeping resignation, she turned around.

Standing before her now, in full royal regalia, was her father. _No, Ozai_.

“I’m given to understand,” she said slowly, “that I only need to temporarily let go of my worldly attachments at the moment I want to enter the Avatar State.”

“Convenient,” not-Ozai remarked. His voice gave the impression of light amusement, his mouth was turned upward in a wide smile, and the wrinkles around his eyes and calmness in his gaze testified only to kindness and pleasantry. Presumably, this was all meant to discomfort her.

It worked, of course.

“What do you represent, then?” she asked.

Not-Ozai said, with the same expression and tone the real Ozai used whenever he praised her, “You have _so many_ mental issues, my dear daughter. Whichever one shall I choose?” He chuckled softly. “But no. I only represent myself. And I am here to ask you a question.”

Azula put on a pose of indifference that was, she hoped, not completely feigned. “Go ahead.”

The spirit pretending to be Ozai pointed at its chest, and a charred hole, very reminiscent of a lightning strike, began growing there. “Why did you throw away your duty to your country?” His flesh burned away, then his bone, and despite the blood leaking from his mouth his voice remained lighthearted, almost joking. “When are you going to realize that your foreign so-called allies will soon turn on you and—”

She thrust her hand into the hole and grasped the fake spirit’s spine. This one didn’t disappear. She yanked it—

And found herself falling. The world became dark again (yet somehow, far more substantial), with what felt like a tree branch in her hand.

Azula didn’t even have time to scream before she landed in water. The liquid filled her mouth before she managed to close it. She thrashed around, clamped down on her panic, somehow managed to splash to the surface, and spat out the foul sludge.

Then a net fell on top of her.

“Hey, Tho!” someone shouted. “I caught a live one!”

Azula found herself intensely missing the days when she was just pointlessly wandering around the swamp.

* * *

The situation was both better and worse than she had thought.

It was better because while Due and Tho, the natives of the swamp (why anyone would willingly _live_ in this place she had no idea) were indeed savage imbeciles, they were not savage enough to be cannibals. When they saw she was human, they let her out of the net, apologized, and even offered to take her to their village.

It was worse because...well...

“What’s an Avatar?” And it was Tho, the smarter one, who said that.

She knew they were savages, but _still_.

“Well...” Azula began, then stopped. It was actually a little difficult to explain this from scratch, and she wasn’t exactly at full mental capacity at the moment. “The Avatar is the incarnation of a spirit, that reincarnates into a new human every time the old one dies.”

“What’s reincarnation?” That was Due, the stupider one, but Tho didn’t move to answer him.

“Never mind, I guess that part’s not important right now. Anyway, I can bend all four elements, and...I suppose you could call me a go-between for the Material World and the Spirit World.”

‘Why would you need to do that?” Tho asked.

“...Which one?”

“Both.”

Azula opened her mouth, checked herself, then said, “Well, bending all the elements is often useful to defend oneself, or others.”

“I’ve always only needed waterbending,” Due said.

“But what if another waterbender attacked you?” she asked.

Due gasped. “Why would they do that?”

“Even if they did,” Tho cut in, “my kin would protect me.”

Azula shook her head. “Whatever. Anyway, why _wouldn’t_ you need a go-between with the Spirit World? Especially here,” she waved her hand around, “this swamp seems especially...spiritual.” _Or at least that’s one word for it._

Tho said, “We’ve never really had a problem with spirits.”

“Seriously?” She had a _very_ hard time believing that.

“They don’t really bother you as long as you treat the swamp right,” Due said, with an infuriating lecturing tone.

Memories of all the plants she had damaged or destroyed the past four days came to her. _Treat the swamp right_. Was that seriously why she had gotten those visions?

“Not everyone is as kind to their environment as you seem to be,” she said carefully.

Tho clicked his tongue.

“Anyway,” Azula said, deciding it was time to get to the point, “one of my duties is to keep the world at peace, and I’m here for something related to that. I would be...grateful if you could aid me, and would offer you a reward in return.”

There was a silence. “What kind of reward?” Tho eventually asked.

Azula grinned. “I’m a powerful figure. I could probably give you almost anything you might want.”

“Really?” That was Due.

She nodded. “Just say the word.” _I can’t imagine you all might want something hard for me to get._

Tho sounded like he was thinking. “You say you can bend all four elements?”

She wasn’t sure if she liked his tone, but she said, “Yes, I can.”

“Then...”

* * *

A long time later, she finally returned to the village, bringing the charred remains of a giant anaconda-lizard behind her by bending the mud under it. Apparently, Due and Tho’s village was curious as to its taste.

“How is that ‘treating the swamp right’?” she had asked.

“Animals eatin’ each other is only natural,” Tho had said.

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that,” Due had added.

When she got back, she was extremely tired and irritated. But before going to sleep, she decided to confirm that they would help her find the bison.

“Oh, we don’t know where they are,” Tho said.

“...What?”

His words muffled by his eating, Due said something like, “But we _do_ know who does!”

Azula breathed in deeply. _Enlightened. You’re enlightened now. This is nothing compared to Pathik’s games._

She breathed out. “Alright,” she said, resigned, “lead me to them in the morning.”

“His name’s Huu!” Due added unhelpfully.

* * *

Azula felt better the next morning. Not having any visions this time helped, and at least she was finally making _some_ sort of progress. It didn’t even take particularly long for them to reach this Huu person.

“And this is the banyan-grove tree I reached enlightenment under.”

Even though Azula had sworn to herself not to get involved in any discussions after Huu insisted on showing her around before leading her to the bison, she was interested despite herself. “What, Pathik taught you too?”

“Pathik?” Huu was clearly confused. “No, I just meditated.”

“...You meditated. That’s it?”

“Yes. If you’re the Avatar, you should know this swamp is very—”

“ _That’s it!?_ ”

Huu didn’t speak as her scream reverberated across the surrounding area. Finally, he said, “Is there something wrong...Avatar?”

Azula forced herself to smile. “No, no. I was just surprised. For me, it was...a little more difficult.” _As if I didn’t have enough reasons to hate Pathik..._

Huu cleared his throat. “In any event, after that, I decided I would stay and protect this swamp from anyone who would do it harm, by—”

This also caused her to become interested despite herself, albeit for a different reason. “Wait. Don’t tell me _you’re_ the one who gave me those visions?” she asked, with an undercurrent of anger.

“No, I just bend the water in these vines.” He demonstrated by moving some nearby vines around.

She was still a little suspicious, but he seemed to be telling the truth, and she needed his help anyway. “Alright. But this swamp is huge. How can you defend the entire thing?”

Huu chuckled. “It is indeed huge, but actually the entire swamp is just one tree. This tree, as a matter of fact.”

Having eliminated her anger already—enlightenment was at least helpful in emotional management—she was able to consider that information rationally. “I see,” she said, thinking back to some of the biology scrolls she had read as a child. “But then, this tree must have lived for hundreds of thousands of years.”

“At the very least. Though I suspect it’s as old as the world itself.”

“That is impressive if true, but how does it help you protect the swamp?”

“If you are the Avatar,” Huu said pleasantly, “and are enlightened yourself, as you appear to be, then you should understand.”

He sounded way too much like Pathik for it to be a coincidence. But just as she was about to respond with something sarcastic, she felt something under her feet. Some sort of movement, a rhythm...

Without really thinking, she bent down and laid her hand on the giant branch she was standing on. The feeling became clear.

A heartbeat.

_When I say everything is connected, I am not being glib or metaphorical. I am saying something literally true. However, merely hearing that truth is meaningless unless you understand what it truly means. It is precisely because we are all unique that we are in reality one, Avatar. The difference between difference and unity is itself an illusion. Life and death, past and future, truth and lies, reality and illusion, self and others—they are all the same, because they are all different._

The swamp’s trees were her bones, its water her blood, and its air her eyes. And she saw them.

At least six tiny bison, sleeping against one of the tree’s huge roots, in the depths of the swamp.

“There you go,” Huu said. “I did promise you would see the flying bison.”

Azula stood up, swaying slightly. The hearbeat faded. “So...” she said slowly, “if you can see everything going on in the swamp...”

“I knew you were here the moment you stepped foot inside. As a matter of fact, I was the one who told Tho and Due there was a good hunting spot near where you saw your visions.”

_I should’ve known that wasn’t a coincidence._ “There a particular reason you had me wander around for days instead of just coming to me immediately?”

“Years before you came, I had a vision of you,” Huu said. “I just followed it. Now I see why.” Azula saw his own hand against the tree, not through earth- or airbending. “If you hadn’t received those visions, would you have truly understood this swamp?”’

She should probably have been angry at him. But when she saw...when she _felt_ the swamp... “I’m going to the flying bison now.”

“Be careful, Avatar.” Huu’s tone sounded genuinely concerned. “Those great creatures have been hiding from humans for a century. Even I don’t dare go near them, though I do my best to protect them.”

_And my former nation is the reason they’re afraid of humans_. At least Huu had enough tact to not bring that up.

* * *

After politely thanking Due and Tho—no sense alienating potential allies—Azula traveled to the bison’s location alone. She found it much easier to travel the swamp now, after her recent experience.

She stopped when she was still far away. She didn’t know the exact limits of the bison’s senses, and now wasn’t the time to test them, for along with the tiny ones (presumably children) there were four rather large ones...and one veritable giant.

Despite her enlightened nature, Azula involuntarily gulped. As a child, she had read reports from the Fire Nation soldiers who had burned the Air Temples to the ground; the flying bison had killed more than the nomads themselves. By a huge factor.

_Well, I can’t exactly back off now, after coming all this way_. She shut up the part of her mind that told her that was a logical fallacy, sat down, and meditated.

There were two aspects to the Avatar State: gaining the power of all previous Avatars, and gaining their _knowledge_. These mostly came hand in hand, but Pathik had taught her how to separate them with enough time and concentration. Borrowing the previous Avatars’ knowledge was far less exhausting than borrowing their strength, apparently, so this technique could be quite useful.

Soon enough, perhaps aided by the swamp, all the knowledge of the previous Avatars flooded into her.

She and Aang had discussed the basics, but with direct access to thousands of years of Air Bender Avatars, a much better plan soon formed. Flying bison were among the most spiritually sensitive of animals, so no matter how terrified of and/or angry at humans they might be, they should recognize the Avatar. The full Avatar State might be too frightening, but there were a myriad of ways to reveal one’s spiritual signature, so to speak, to a wide area.

And indeed, after doing so, the biggest bison flew toward her.

...Flew rather quickly.

_Well. That’s not good._

As previously mentioned, this bison was very big; easily twice as large as the one Aang rode in the Spirit World. And it was still accelerating, reaching a speed which by all accounts should’ve been impossible, almost annihilating the swamp’s growth in its way. And it was charging straight at her.

Best of all, Azula’s previously-conquered fear raced back, banishing the previous Avatars’ knowledge from her mind. So it was just her, versus several hundred pounds of flying, angry, wind-controlling beast.

_Why does nothing ever go my way?_

She rocketed into the sky using fire- and airbending. The bison passed a few heads below her, but the wind blowing in its wake knocked her off-course; she crashed into a tree, barely cushioning herself with some air. The bison made an incredibly sharp turn and rushed at her again with only minimal delay.

Azula was ready this time. The swamp was still a presence in her mind. Reaching down, she took the water in the mud and undergrowth and shoved it upward, putting a column of swamp in the bison’s path. That bought her some time, so she could set her feet and launch herself back into the air, above the animal. The bison roared as the swamp muck flew off of it, propelled by an incredibly strong gust of wind. It then charged straight at her once more.

All of Azula’s senses were on maximum alert. She was acutely aware that, for the first time in over a year, one false move would lead to her death.

It wasn’t a bad feeling.

She breathed in, stretched her arms behind her, then breathed out and moved them forward, palms out. A gigantic column of flame erupted from them, as large as the bison. The beast was already committed to its charge. The air pressure surrounding it dissipated some of Azula’s attack, but not all.

As the fire consumed the bison, the only sign of pain it emitted was a short, soft (for it) grunt. Its charge continued.

Almost frantic, Azula bent as much air and swamp growth as she could at the bison. Then it made contact.

For a few seconds, all she could sense was a vague ache in the front of her body from the neck to the stomach. Then she felt a falling sensation. On instinct, she went to slow her fall with firebending, and then realized that breathing was suddenly extremely difficult; with her short, ragged gasps, she could barely manage a few embers. That fact registered, she tried to think of other options. It took a few seconds—probably a lot longer than it should have, she was having trouble remembering very much right now—but she decided to use airbending to slow down and waterbending to move as much mud as she could to her landing spot. She vaguely recalled it was best to roll in this kind of situation, but that seemed impossible given her current condition, so she just stuck her arms and legs out, which worked adequately.

The impact seemed to knock something into place, or possibly out of place, as the dull ache in her chest area instantly turned into a searing, unbearable pain. She tried to scream, but her (presumably broken) ribs were compressing her lungs too much, so it came out as something like a gasp. The bison, perhaps sensing weakness, dove at her.

Azula almost smiled. She was more than used to pain—and now that she was out of shock, she had her brain back.

“ _Typical firebender tactic, pressuring your opponent with constant attacks,” Bumi said patronizingly. “I had hoped the Avatar would be less_ predictable _.”_

It had been too long since she last fought, and she had reverted back to bad habits. Time to rectify that.

Her first mistake, she now realized, was going above the bison instead of below it. There was a reason for it, but the timing was wrong; flying bison were most powerful in the air. Now that she was on the ground, it wouldn’t charge at full speed, or else it’d risk slamming into the swamp. Azula used this extra time to stick her hands in the mud, separating out two large chunks in preparation. In the process, she noticed the bison was turning around. But why—?

_It’s planning to whack me with its tail_ , she thought. _All the better for me, then._

Right before the tail hit her, she brought up her hands, each one dragging a mass of mud with it. The mud engulfed the tail, trapping it.

The bison flipped its tail up; Azula’s stomach lurched as she was dragged along for the ride in a wide half-circle. But she had packed the mud so tight it might as well have been fused to the animal—and to herself. It didn’t come free.

As a result, Azula once more found herself above the bison. There were two big differences from the previous time, though: the bison wasn’t moving, just levitating, and she was a lot closer to it. The scrolls she had read detailing the Fire Nation’s victory were indeed correct; the one area a flying bison couldn’t attack was directly above itself. She just had to get above it in the right way.

She removed the masses of mud from the bison’s tail. It started moving, but not fast enough. She swung her arms forward, to where the air currents told her the bison’s front was, and surrounded its head with mud.

Its air supply now cut off, the bison flailed wildly; Azula blew herself into the bison’s fur to avoid getting whipped around like a doll. Eventually it got the idea to smash Azula against a tree. Her chest still screaming in pain didn’t give Azula much confidence in her agility at present, so she covered herself in mud and cushioned herself with as much wind as she could muster. The impact was painful, but not overly so. The bison slammed into another tree, but its movements were becoming distinctly sluggish; the impact hurt much less (relatively speaking). The bison withdrew from the second tree, hung in the air for a bit, and then, finally, descended.

Azula’s battle with the flying bison ended with a surprisingly gentle landing into the swamp.

When the bison stopped moving, Azula sighed in relief, winced when her chest erupted in pain again, then quickly pulled the mud away from its head. Despite the fact that it had attacked her without provocation, killing the bison would contradict the entire purpose of this escapade.

Anyway, that problem resolved, next she had to deal with the fact that she was seriously injured in the middle of nowhere. And there was still the issue of all the _other_ bison...

_One thing at a time_. After doing her best to relax, Azula steeled herself and concentrated.

The Avatar State, she was beginning to understand, could be used in a great many ways. An incarnation who lived around 1800 years ago had been an extremely talented healer. While it was much harder to heal yourself than another using waterbending, she was at least able to do a patchwork job. She’d need to see Kalu about it later, but she could at least breathe normally again (though it sent a small jolt of pain throughout her body every time she did).

_Okay, that’s good enough for the time being. So...what do I do now?_

No ideas from her previous lives were forthcoming.

_...Maybe I should’ve thought this through some more._

* * *

A few hours later, the bison awoke. Realizing it was unable to move due to being surrounded by tightly-packed mud, it thrashed around futilely and roared, for a very long time. Azula waited patiently.

When it finally stopped, she said, “Ready to listen to me now?”

More roaring, just as loud, but thankfully it ended quicker this time.

“I’m told you sky bison are quite intelligent. So calm down, and look inward. How do you feel?”

The beast growled. It didn’t seem to understand her language. Not particularly surprising. She stood up, slowly walked in front of it, then pulled up her sleeve to reveal a cut she had received from the battle that had yet to heal.

“Watch closely,” she said. Azula bent water out of the swamp, slowly purified it, then made it float onto her wound. A few seconds later, she removed her hand. “There, see? Good as new. I did the same thing to you.” She stepped closer, and the bison snapped its jaws. She put her hands up to placate it. “My original intention was to heal the damage you took in the battle, but it turns out you had many more wounds than just those. It’s going to take a while to heal all of them.”

The bison was silent, but it sure didn’t seem to be a _friendly_ silence.

_Damn, this isn’t working. How can I communicate with this thing? This is why I hate animals._

That made her think of all the animals she hurt and killed as a child. Not a pleasant thought. It led to her remembering how she opened her chakras, and all the visions Pathik gave her.

...Hm.

Azula sat back down and concentrated.

_Fear. Guilt. Shame. Grief. Lies. Illusion. Attachment. Breathe in, breathe out, and let them all flow away._

Last time, she had been too focused on finding the bison to really appreciate what it was like being in the Avatar State. It was...what did Pathik say about things you couldn’t put into words? It was strange, yet entirely familiar. She was outside herself, yet more aware of herself than ever before. She was alone, yet every being in the world was with her.

Or something like that, at least.

She raised a hand, and the swamp rose with it. Moving her fingers daintily, the water, vines, and muck congealed into a number of bison.

“I assume this is roughly what happened,” she said. She swept her other hand and a wave of fire erupted from it. The bison flinched, but the fire never came close; it transformed into the shape of a group of humans. “Huu said he protected you, but he never said he always _succeeded_. Maybe it was luck, maybe they heard rumors, but a group of hunters managed to find you. Tracked one of you back to the others, perhaps.” The flaming men shot arrows at the swamp bison. “There was a battle. You won,” the largest bison slammed into the humans, dispersing the flame, “but at a severe cost.” Gashes had formed in the bison, and muddy water seeped out of them, splashing into the marsh below.

The bison growled, but it seemed different this time. Almost a whimper.

“That’s why you attacked me.” She stood up, and made the giant swamp bison fly at her. Rocketing upward using fire- and airbending, she and the swamp bison danced in midair before she landed on it and made them both float down. “Understandable enough,” she said when they reached the bottom, “but I can help you.” She lay a hand on the swamp bison, and all its gashes filled back in. She walked around, did the same to all the other swamp bison, and turned to face the real one.

Azula stood in silence for a long time. Then she walked to the bison and slowly, gently, laid a hand on its head. It rumbled, but didn’t move. She walked away, spread her hands, and the mud surrounding it collapsed.

It took conscious effort to keep her nervousness under control for the next few, long seconds. But the bison just turned around and walked away.

Sighing in relief, Azula dismissed the Avatar State, then stumbled as fatigue overtook her. She bent some mud around her legs to stop herself from falling. There would be more than enough time to rest when this was all over. Holding onto that slippery resolve, she followed the bison.

Upon arriving at the main herd, she found that the bison’s wounds were even more serious than she had thought. (In retrospect, her vision of them earlier had been fairly foggy.) Two of them could barely even move, and several others weren’t in much better shape. She idly wondered if any of them had died in the attack. No way to find out now.

Nothing a little Avatar State power and knowledge couldn’t handle, though. After about an hour of work, they were on the path to recovery. One of the little ones licked her hand when she healed it, and she even managed not to flinch.

There was only so much even she could do in one day, though. She’d have to stick around for at least a few more days more to guarantee the bison’s full recovery. The problem was communicating this to them. (The irony of having to rely on visual communication was not lost on her.)

Approaching the giant bison, which seemed to be their leader, she bent another wounded muck bison out of the swamp. “This is going to take some more time,” she said, laying her hand on the swamp bison and healing some, but not all, the wounds. She removed her hand, waited, and put it back, healing more wounds, and repeated this process several times. “Do you understand?”

The bison made a noise, but Azula couldn’t really interpret it. None of her previous lives could, either. Flying bison were just too individualistic, apparently; you couldn’t rely overmuch on general knowledge when dealing with them. She’d just have to take it on faith.

Which really sucked, of course.

Azula dismissed the Avatar State, and a tsunami of exhaustion crashed into her. She was unconscious before she hit the ground.

* * *

Living among the bison was extremely boring. The only task to accomplish, healing the bison, was quite repetitive and easy to accomplish with Avatar State knowledge. There was nothing else to do, no people to talk to or fight with, not even really much to think about. Azula had no idea how Huu could stand living this way. The only way she found to alleviate the tedium was to comb through her previous lives’ knowledge and memories while in the Avatar State. But she barely had the energy to maintain the Avatar State for an hour per day, which left 15 more waking hours filled with brain-rotting emptiness.

After some number of days (she soon lost track), Azula got so utterly bored that she decided she might as well just closely observe the bison. Over time, she began to figure out the eccentricities of each one. One child bison was shy and never came near her; another one constantly bothered her to play with it. One wounded bison continually moaned in pain, while another stoically remained silent. Some of them spent most of their time in the air, others on the ground. All of this would surely be quite fascinating if she were a zoologist or someone who actually _cared_.

Even with all her observation, though, Azula still found the giant bison rather inscrutable. It often flew off and came back with food for the others, but other than that it mostly just watched her. She didn’t know how much of that was to ensure she didn’t cause any trouble, and how much was due to other, mysterious motives.

Finally, after an interminable period of time, she had healed the bison enough that they could finish recovering on their own. She approached them when most were gathered together for one final Avatar State-powered puppet show.

“One day, I’ll make it so that you can all be free again,” she said, making tiny muck bison fly high, up out of the swamp. “But not today.” While she had hoped originally to use the flying bison for her Avatar duties, considering their distrust of humans that seemed unwise at the present moment. “I’ll lay some groundwork over the next few years, figure out the best way to make sure you’ll be protected.” She made some more muck bison behind her, then arced fire arrows toward them, stepping in front and deflecting them at the last moment.

The baby bison that always wanted to play flew close and licked her face. Being in the Avatar State made it much easier to suppress a grimace.

“Stay safe, then. I’ll be back eventually.” Time was hard to express visually, so she hoped tone and context would suffice. She dismissed the Avatar State, stumbled a bit from the sudden fatigue, waved, and walked off.

After some time spent walking and plotting out her next moves, she heard a disturbingly familiar rumbling in the distance.

_Seriously?_ Azula thought. She turned around and entered a battle stance.

The giant bison exploded into the clearing, flew up high, and landed down hard in front of her. Azula tensed her muscles, ready for anything.

Then the bison... _bowed_. Or at least, she couldn’t think of any other way to interpret it bending its legs and laying its face on the ground.

_Gratitude? Apology?_ Unsure what to do, she hazily walked to it and patted it on the head, belatedly realizing she was copying Aang’s memories.

Then she yelped when the bison tossed its head, sending her flying. She barely had time to berate herself for letting her guard down before it flew straight up, slamming her into its back, and continued flying up, and up...

...until they left the swamp.

The bison stopped. Azula’s breath was hot and heavy. Slowly, carefully, she pulled herself up, shaking a bit at the freezing-cold air.

She sat there for a long time.

“Is this what I think it is?” Azula asked.

The bison roared in response.

A grin gradually spread across Azula’s face. She scratched the bison’s neck. “You know, I kind of like you. One of the last survivors of your race...how about I call you Zenmetsu?”

No response from the bison. Oh well.

“Alright. I guess we should go to the South Pole first, so Kalu can finish healing my injuries. Head in...”

Azula realized she couldn’t really sense anything up here, and therefore, had no idea which direction to go.

_...I probably should’ve thought this through._

* * *

**20 years later**

* * *

As always, when Azula landed at the Northern Air Temple, everyone there excitedly crowded around Zenmetsu. She seemed to enjoy the attention, though. It made Azula feel less bad about leaving her alone as she met with Teo and the mechanist. (The Northern Air Temple was the one place Toph refused to return to.)

The meeting began with a detailed recounting of every new blueprint they had given the “Water Empire.” After she was satisfied none of them significantly warped the balance of power, the conversation moved to the ongoing breakup of the Earth Kingdom.

“We’re all getting pretty worried,” Teo said. “We make an alliance with a state, then it gets broken up, conquered, or there’s a change in power, and the new state wants a new bargain, forcing us to give up even more. It’s only a matter of time before one of them attacks us. Our only reliable ally is the Northern Wat—er, Water Empire, but they’re pretty far away and don’t have much of a ground army.”

The mechanist sighed sadly. “This is all my fault. Nobody would bother us if it weren’t for my inventions.”

Teo comforted his father. At some point, word had got out about how he had collaborated with the Fire Nation. Azula didn’t know the details, but the process ended with Teo taking over leadership of the village. She figured it was best not to pry.

“Regarding that,” Azula said, “I think I have an idea for how to help you out.”

Teo’s head whipped around so fast Azula thought his neck might break too. “Really?”

“How much do you know about the progress of the new colonial compromise?”

“Um. The colonies will become their own separate country, though former Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom citizens will have representatives in their old countries. Which I guess is getting more complicated now that the Earth Kingdom broke up.”

“ _That_ is an understatement, trust me. They’re facing similar problems as you all, and add on the fact that they don’t really know what it means to be an independent, binational country yet. Which leads to my idea: you all go join them.”

Silence blanketed the room for a few seconds. Then Teo said, stuttering a little, “You mean...be a part of their new country?”

“Correct!” Azula smiled. “Part of the deal was that they’d have to accept any and all refugees—they’ve even had to take on a bunch of people from the South who don’t like the new unified tribe. You all _are_ refugees, so the process should be smooth. You’d have a protector, and they’d have the benefit of your technology. It’s a win-win, don’t you think?”

More silence. “It’s...an interesting idea,” Teo said, “but I think we’ll need some time to, you know, think it through?”

Azula scuffed her foot. “Technically speaking, you all don’t own this place. You’re just squatters, legally; there’s just no one alive who’s able to press charges.” She let that hang in the air for a bit, then said, “But I can change that. Help get your documentation in order, so to speak. And not just here; if you join the colonies, I’ll help you get titles to all four former air temples.” She traced a circle with her hand. “The former colonies have to take in all refugees, and in a way the temples are refugees too, so it makes sense.”

Teo and the mechanist seemed shocked; neither uttered a word. That was, after all, the point of throwing out so much information at once. Finally, Teo said, “Avatar. Forgive me for asking, but...why do you want us to do this so much?”

Azula stood up. “As it happens, the answer to that question is the same as the final deal sweetener I had in mind. Follow me.” She walked back to the temple square briskly; Teo and the mechanist hurried to catch up. Zenmetsu seemed to be flying overhead currently, likely giving some of the villagers a ride; Azula walked past, to the edge of the cliff, put fingers in her mouth, and whistled loudly.

Seventeen sky bison responded by flying up, cresting the cliff, and landing with a _smash_. Zenmetsu joined them a moment later.

A loud cheer rose up from the villagers as they crowded to the bison. Some of the bison seemed nervous, but they all put up with it admirably. Azula walked back to meet Teo (the mechanist, for his part, was one of the first to the bison).

“What is this?” Teo asked. Azula was pleased at the undercurrent of wonder in his voice.

“Do you know how people learned to bend?” Azula said in response.

“...Huh?”

“Firebenders learned from the dragons, earthbenders from the badgermoles, waterbenders from the moon and tides...and airbenders from the sky bison.”

Azula rocketed upward, then landed gently on Zenmetsu’s back. She opened a satchel on her saddle and took out several large, heavy bags, tossing each one to the ground and jumping down herself when she finished. “Help me carry these,” she told the gathered audience, picking one up and bringing it to Teo. The villagers appeared confused but a few of them took a bag and followed her, including the mechanist.

“For a number of years now,” Azula said, “I’ve taken a little time each day to consult my previous Air Nomad lives, and write down the most important parts of Air Nomad culture and history. This is the result.” She opened the bag, turned it upside-down, and a mountain of scrolls tumbled out.

The entire village was gathered around her now, and the only sound in the air was the soft humming of the wind.

After a long time, Teo said, “Is all this...for us?”

“You’ve been living here long enough, might as well learn about the original inhabitants. Besides,” she blew a light breeze at him, “you all are the closest things to the Air Nomads left in this world. Don’t you want to learn how to airbend?”

The dam broke; a chorus of voices invaded her ears.

“Everyone, later!” Teo shouted. They quieted down. “Can I...can _we_ really learn how to airbend from these?”

There was real excitement in his voice. Azula felt a little bad. Just a little, though. “It took the original airbenders centuries upon centuries. With their knowledge it shouldn’t take nearly as much time...but I imagine it won’t be you personally, but your grandchildren’s grandchildren who finally manage it.”

“...Ah.”

The mood of the villagers dampened. Azula waited a bit, then clapped her hands. “Still! That doesn’t stop you from following the Air Nomads’ philosophies. Or not following them, as you wish. You would have to accept immigrants who want to adopt Air Nomad culture. No matter what, though, you’ll always be able to ride the sky bison.”

“You’re giving them all to us?” the mechanist asked, his voice trembling.

“They’re not mine to give,” she said softly. Then more loudly, “I _convinced_ them to come here, as an act of faith. If you betray my faith by failing to protect them, or worse, actively selling them off...”

“We’d never!” a young woman said, and the rest of the villagers—whether out of genuine outrage or peer pressure—loudly agreed with her.

“Fantastic. So...” she turned back to Teo. “Do we have a deal?”

“She wants us to join with the new nation forming out of the old colonies,” Teo explained to the audience. Murmurs circulated. “Avatar,” he continued, “when you said this is the reason you want us to join them...”

Azula nodded. “There are going to be a lot of people after these bison. It’ll be a lot harder to protect them if you remain independent.”

Teo chuckled briefly. “I guess this is how Dad felt when you forced him to ally with you.”

_Trust me, you’re getting a lot more out of_ this _deal than he did out of that one._

All the villagers moved to look at the bison. Some bison shifted nervously, others stood proudly straight and still.

“Anyone who wants to take the Avatar’s deal, speak up,” Teo said.

A deafening shout surged from the villagers, as loud and strong as a tornado.

“Then it’s decided.”

Azula grinned. “Great. I’ll speak to the colonies’ leadership and get the ball rolling. See you again soon.” She turned around, then stopped. “Ah, one more thing. To avoid the fate of the old Air Nomads, it would behoove you to possess a skill that others value. So,” she pointed at one bag of scrolls, “I’ve written my previous lives’ knowledge of the Spirit World into the scrolls there. If people need you to deal with their spirit problems, they’ll be much more hesitant to kill you all. I’m willing to take some of you on as apprentices in this, so let me know if anyone’s interested. Later!” She crouched, preparing to leap onto Zenmetsu.

“Wait, Avatar!” Teo yelled.

_Damn._

“I’m… We’re grateful for all your help, don’t get me wrong, but...isn’t the Spirit World your job?”

She stared at him for several long seconds. “The ground is shifting beneath us. Hurricanes are brewing above us. The old is burning up, and the new is rising from the ashes. If we just keep doing what we’ve always done, we’ll be swallowed by the tide.”

* * *

**End of Chapter 14**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The show is vague about how exactly bending gets “transmitted” from one generation to the next. The sequel sort of implies it’s genetic, but I really hate that idea; it’s not in keeping with the show’s themes, or with the cultures it draws inspiration from (in my opinion, at least). I much prefer thinking of it as basically a cultural practice: grow up in (e.g.) Fire Nation society, live by Fire Nation cultural norms, and there’s a chance you’ll be a firebender. So that’s the route I take in this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it!


	16. Enlightenment IV

Special thanks to my former beta Lavanya Six, and my current betas Devon and Aurelia Le!

**Timeline Reminder:** The “Enlightenment” chapters take place approximately one year after Ozai’s death.

* * *

**The Right to Rule**

An _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ fanfic

* * *

**Chapter 15**

**Enlightenment IV**

* * *

“The fourth chakra is the Air Chakra, located in the heart.”

“So we’ve basically given up on making the location match the chakra, then?” They were now sitting at the top of another stone staircase, surrounded by crumbling wrecks of columns and a roof at serious risk of caving in. Azula guessed this used to be a meditation area.

“Well…” Pathik said. “There are Air Nomad statues here.”

“That’s _really_ weak.”

He cleared his throat. “The Air Chakra. It deals with love and is blocked by grief.”

_This is going to be_ oodles _of fun_ , Azula thought _._ “If you wallow in grief for loved ones lost,” she said in a raspy voice, “you will be unable to love again.”

“...I would not use the word wallow.”

“Anything substantive you’d like to add?”

Pathik sighed. “If you were learning more about your spiritual needs I would be delighted, but I fear you are merely hiding behind sarcasm again.”

“What would I be hiding from? This chakra’s going to be easy.”

“Is that so?” Pathik sounded skeptical. To say the least.

Azula grinned and held up two fingers. “I’ve only lost two people I was _really_ close to. I lost my mother because she thought I’m a monster, and I lost my father because I’m the Avatar. But I already settled those in the first and third chakras, respectively. So this one’ll be easy.”

“Hmmmmmm. Shall we test your theory?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“The technique I used during the previous chakra will not work again, but we can do something similar. We’ll enter a small, enclosed area of the Spirit World that will reflect your true feelings. I believe this will be the most efficient way to clear your chakra.”

Azula shrugged. “Doesn’t sound any worse than what we’ve already done.”

“Excellent!” Pathik clapped his hands. “Entering this location is simple. First…”

* * *

Hours of instruction later, Azula opened her eyes—a decidedly odd sensation, these days—to find an endless, blank sea of mist before her.

“Alright,” she said, “what do I do now?”

Silence. She couldn’t even hear her heartbeat. Not just hearing: her nose smelled no scents, her tongue was numb to taste, her feet couldn’t even feel the ground. She was surrounded by a featureless void.

“...So that’s how it is.”

When she went to the Spirit World during the previous chakra, she had no emotions. Now, she had no _sensations_ (Spirit World sight didn’t count). Both times she was akin to a corpse, but since she had emotions this time, a few embers of anxiety lit within her. Normally this would result in her heart beating faster, but she couldn’t even sense _that_ now, which made her anxiety burn even brighter.

_Reflect your true feelings_ , Pathik had said. Well then. With nothing better to do, she decided to start walking.

“Ozai first, I suppose,” Azula said. As she walked the mist started to form shapes, still vague. “Nothing much to say, really. It’s pretty obvious. He was the only person who cared about me for the longest time, and then he stopped.” Out of the corner of her eye (eye socket), she saw mist congeal into an image of her younger self, bending water with one hand and moving earth with the other. She ignored it. “The only question is—”

Azula stopped abruptly. Kanji characters formed in the air around her, spelling out sentences she could recall only too vividly.

_This is the scroll I studied when I first learned firebending. Happy birthday, my dear daughter._

_You are the best daughter anyone could hope for. One day all of this will be yours, Azula._

_At this rate, you’ll even surpass me one day. You could very well become the savior of the Fire Nation._

“...whether he ever really loved me.”

A thought bubbled to the surface: What _is_ love, then?

_Great, I’m talking to myself now._ “That is one question I am absolutely not equipped to answer.”

If you do not know what love is, why do you care about it?

“I don’t really care that much.”

Do not lie.

“It’s not a lie!” _...That wasn’t very convincing._ “I mean. I just want to _know_.”

You can never know what lies within another’s heart.

“Agni damn it, I really hope this sanctimony isn’t my true feelings.”

As always, you hide with sarcasm.

“Okay, you’re really Pathik, right? I don’t know how you got inside my mind like this—”

It does not matter whether this comes from you, Pathik, or the Spirit World itself. What matters is whether or not this is true. And this is all true.

“I’ve already dealt with it. I proved I’m not dependent on him, I overcame the shame he inculcated in me, what else is there to do?”

If that is so, why do you grieve him?

“ _Because we used to_...I used to...love him.”

Used to?

“...I suppose part of me might still love him.”

You are still hiding. It is not _part_ of you. Do not disassociate. _You_ still love—

“Fine. There, I admit it. So what do I do now?”

There weren’t any more intrusive thoughts. Maybe that meant it all really was her. Or maybe Pathik was just screwing with her again.

Azula sighed. She could almost feel the shape of her father behind her, but she refused to look. _Reflect my true feelings, indeed._

“Well, until we figure that out, how about we do Ursa next?”

The mist whirled around her in a tornado. A small black book appeared in front of her and spat out characters.

_I feel horrible writing this, much less thinking it, but honestly, I’m afraid of Azula. I think she might be becoming a monster._

“It all comes back to this, doesn’t it?”

Your father killed your relationship with him, but you killed your relationship with your mother.

“You’re back, huh?”

What do you grieve for?

“...Something like this.” An image of a woman holding a baby congealed before her.

That is not what she looked like.

“Because I don’t miss _her_. I barely remember the good times I had with her. I miss...the idea of her, I suppose. Having a mother.”

You have thought about this.

“Like I’ve been saying, I’ve already _dealt_ with all this. You and Pathik are making mountains out of pebbles.”

Can you truly draw such a sharp line between your mother and the idea of your mother?

“What do you mean?”

You say you loved your father. But what precisely did you love?

“I’m getting more and more convinced you’re really Path—”

If you cannot answer...

Suddenly the mist surged toward her, filling her mouth, her ears, her nose, her eye sockets, her mind.

_This will answer for you_.

* * *

Ashen figures stand in a line. In front of them lies a paper sliding door, painted with grass as green as jealousy, sky blue like hatred. Behind them screams a giant column of flame, as bright as the planet’s core. The coal-black figures simply look ahead at nothing.

_Clank_. A pile of wood falls in front of the fire, connected to strings that disappear into the void above. The strings grow taut and the wood rises, forming a vaguely humanoid shape. The searing volcano casts the puppet’s shadow onto the door. While the puppet is grotesque, the shadow is beautiful. The abyssal figures clap and cheer. More puppets crash to the ground, and the cycle repeats.

One of the void people timidly approaches the door. It moves to grasp the shadow’s hand, but the paper disintegrates upon its touch. The figure collapses to the ground, wraps its arms around its knees, and evaporates into smoke. The smoke expands to fill the entire world, accompanied by the sound of a cavalry charge growing louder and louder, until it becomes deafening, until it consumes all.

* * *

The mist poured out of her. Azula could barely stand; her ears were ringing so loudly she could barely think. Thankfully, the ringing slowly— _slowly_ —diminished, until once more she couldn’t hear anything.

“I remember,” she said between gulping down air, “reading something...like that...once.”

Then an explanation is unnecessary.

“You didn’t have to _do_ that. I understand the concept just fine. We don’t have access to the external world directly, just our sensations of it. Like when we’re dreaming and don’t know it, we never know whether the things we experience are truly real. So I don’t know _my father_ , strictly speaking; all I know is my idea of him.”

Therefore, that idea is what you love.

“Okay, fine. But you know what I _meant_. My idea of Ursa is different from my idea of ‘mothers’ in general. My grief, inasmuch as I have it at all, is because I lost _that_.”

Why do you miss having a mother?

“Because I...” The mist was growing dense behind her now. She had an idea of what shape it was taking, but she didn’t want to look.

_There is no place to hide here_.

“...Everyone always wanted something from me. Even Ozai, in the end. I suppose I miss having someone who cares for me without ulterior motives.”

Such deliberate language. Always so rational.

“Fuck you! If I give into my emotions I’ll turn back into _that_!”

Azula pointed behind her. The mist had become a perfect replica of her younger self, standing tall and proud on top of a pile of corpses.

“Screw this drawing out your true emotions thing,” Azula spat. “The only reason society functions at all is because we _conceal_ our emotions.”

You cleared your first three chakras by facing your emotions head-on.

“Yeah, well, grief isn’t like fear, guilt, or shame anyway. All those are about _yourself_. You grieve because you lost _other_ people. How am I supposed to get rid of that? I can’t bring my parents back.”

You have forgotten.

“The more you speak in riddles the more I become convinced—”

This only speaks truth. This will remind you.

The ground _disappeared_. Azula started falling endlessly, the mist blowing around her like a tornado. Characters appeared in the storm, repeating what her thoughts were hammering into her mind.

You do not know Ozai. You only know your idea of Ozai.

_Betrayal. Father. Killer. Protector. Childhood. Lord. Warmth. Burn._

But that is only the first level. What of others’ ideas of Ozai?

_Father. Different. Same. Hatred. Empty. Love. Regret._

_Evil. Tyrant. Patricide. Thief. Brother._

_Enemy._

_Ruler._

_War._

_Genocide._

Who is to say your idea is more accurate than theirs? But that is merely the second level. What of Ozai’s idea of Ozai?

_Destiny. King of the world. Guarantor of the progress of history._

He does not know himself either. Nobody does. That is the third level. The final level is this: if all our experiences are merely shadows on the door, then the real Ozai is inert. All that matters...

_Hundreds, thousands of Ozais, smiling, frowning, laughing, sneering, hugging, killing—_

...is our ideas of him. They are all the true Ozai.

And with a _crack_ , the visions disappeared. Azula crashed onto invisible ground.

* * *

A man floated down in front of her. His skin, dark like burned leather, was stretched thin and dry over his bones. His long, wiry beard was white as death. And his eyes portrayed...some sort of emotion. Azula couldn’t read faces anymore.

“How’s the cleansing process going?” he asked, speaking in Pathik’s voice.

“That’s what you look like?” Azula grumbled. She was resting face-down on the ground, but could still ‘see’ everything around her.

“Hmmm. Perhaps. There’s a good chance I am merely part of the Spirit World, or even your hallucination.” The Pathik vision laughed, and Azula hated that she was too tired to hate him—hate it.

“Well,” Azula said, “in any event, you’re not really needed this time. My mind is doing a perfectly fine job torturing itself.”

“Of course. As you accurately pointed out, grief is not the same as fear, guilt, or shame. We can face our fears, do penitence for our guilt, eliminate that which makes us shameful. But nothing we can do will bring our loved ones back. Therefore, wallowing in grief accomplishes nothing. It merely results in, well, this.”

“Then why did you send me here?”

“Why does grief block love?”

“You’re the expert here.”

“You are the only expert on yourself. _Why_ does grief block love?”

“I don’t know!”

“Because you are hiding. Hiding from the person you _truly_ grieve.”

“I hope you’re not referring to what I think you are.”

“I am not. You said you miss having a mother, that you still love your father. Why?”

“...Is that a trick question?”

“Come now, Avatar.” The Pathik vision started pacing in a circle around her. “Do you really expect me to believe you’re just a poor, lonely girl, who acted out because your mother didn’t love you? Have you learned nothing from the time spent in this realm?”

One by one, Azulas starting appearing around Pathik. Baby Azula grasping a disembodied finger. Toddler Azula surrounded by servants, tending to her every desire. Child Azula dancing with fire. Azula laughing with Mai and Ty Lee. Azula ordering a servant to be fired. Azula burning a sparring partner badly. Azula hugging her father. Older Azulas, ones that haven’t existed yet, that couldn’t exist. Azula in the Firelord’s robe. Azula blanketing a man in flames. Azula spreading her arms as the masses bow below her. More and more, filling up the entire blank expanse, their silent voices pounding into her head.

“You don’t know your parents, only your ideas of them,” Pathik continued. “But those ideas are inextricably tied up with your memories and emotions—with _you_. What does it mean, then, that the two people you miss the most are from your childhood? What do you _truly_ grieve?”

The world whirled around them, then snapped back into place. They were floating above the royal palace’s plaza. A decades-older Azula was sitting on a throne in the center, dressed in long crimson robes that flowed to the edges of the plaza’s white tiles. A large crowd of people had gathered around her—Fire Nation, Earth Kingdom, and Water Tribes—but all were dead-silent, eyes transfixed upon her. Behind her throne a huge map was displayed, ruby red filling up every inch of territory.

Slowly a Fire Sage shuffled toward her on his knees, carrying a beautiful cushion, the Firelord’s headpiece balanced delicately on top. To her left knelt Ozai, smiling sadly. To her right Zuko bowed, face on the ground to hide his expression.

As the Fire Sage placed the headpiece on her head, the older Azula smiled. She seemed perfectly happy, finally at peace. All was right in the world.

“I see,” Pathik commented. “So you grieve her.”

The world cracked, then shattered into a million pieces.

* * *

Azula was all alone now, surrounded by infinite blackness. She could feel her heart ramming against her chest, hear her mouth madly gulping down air.

“This is ridiculous,” she said into the silence. “How can I grieve someone who never existed?”

Firelord Azula appeared next to her and said, _But I did exist._

Young Azula atop a pile of corpses was behind her. _I used to be you_.

Old Azula floated above her, back bent over a cane. _You are how you, and others, perceive you._

More and more Azulas appeared, millions, billions, filling up the world. _So when you thought you were us, you were. And now we’re dead._

“Then what am I supposed to _do_? What’s the _lesson_ here!?”

Pathik’s voice: “The love you and your parents used to share, that you had for yourself, is still in this world. It swirls all around us.”

“That’s meaningless bullshit. I want an _answer_!”

“Love is what connects us to others. It is the flame that casts their shadows onto our soul. Grief does the opposite; it isolates us, leaving us alone with our misery. You will arrive at no solution if you merely continue the cycle, Avatar. You must break out. Accept that you are dead. Only then may you be reborn.”

Azula looked to her left. Firelord Azula grinned back. She looked to her right. She saw child Azula, held by her mother, gaze transfixed by her father’s fire. So many Azulas. How did she even know she was the real one?

_...No. There_ is _no real me._

She opened her hands and fire spilled out, waves and waves of flame, an inferno that burned everything to ash.

* * *

The world returned to darkness. But this darkness finally seemed _real_.

“Well done, Avatar,” Pathik said. “In your own inimitable way, you have opened your fourth chakra.”

“...I can’t tell if that’s praise or an insult.”

“We’re over halfway done,” he said, breezing past her. “I admit I had my doubts at first, but at this rate you may actually manage to cleanse them all!”

“That’s _definitely_ an insult.”

Pathik laughed a bit. She didn’t find it to be so annoying, now. “The truly interesting part is yet to come, Avatar. The first four chakras deal with emotions. The last three deal with the _real_.”

Azula raised an eyebrow.

“Reality isn’t just shadows on the door,” Pathik continued. “There is a world out there, Avatar, but we shut ourselves off from it, out of necessity, in order to remain human. You are no exception. If you wish to be _more_ than human, you will have to awaken.”

“...I believe I understand.”

“You do not. But you will.” Pathik stood up. “Time to go. The cosmos awaits.”

* * *

**End Chapter 15**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really sorry this took so long. Part of it was because it’s the first chapter I’ve had to write from scratch in the course of this rewrite, and part of it was because, quite frankly, I had no idea what to do. I ended up taking a lot of inspiration from Neon Genesis Evangelion (and also Plato’s metaphor of the cave). I hope it was enjoyable!
> 
> I’ll do my best to return to a once every two weeks schedule, but I won’t promise it this time.


End file.
